Petrichor
by TwentyOneCatWhiskers
Summary: PLATONIC. AU. Sequel to OUTRÉ. After the events of their February adventure, Dan and Phil decide to attempt to return to the world of the Sims and make ends meet. Will it go as downhill as last time? Probably.
1. Hola

**A/N: So I see you've decided to come back for more! Strap yourselves in and get ready for the second coming of Outre; including more emotional misery, in-depth analyses, consensual violence, weird dialogue and hopefully less instances of scenes that contain too many occurrences of the word 'coffee'.  
Let's be fair: this is probably just going to be another train wreck.  
**

 **KINDA IMPORTANT: I should probably specify before we start that this story takes place a few days after the episode where Dab becomes a child: before, uh... episode 41 happened. Didn't want to delay the story any longer to wait until the new baby, and I didn't want to rewrite everything to make it fit in with the current... _situation_ , so I decided that now would be the time to upload. **

**All in all, I really appreciate that you decided to come and witness this absolute _disaster_ take place before your very eyes.**

 **Let's see how this turns out, shall we?  
 _-Whisker_**

* * *

The 1st of June, 2017.

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening in Willow Creek and the Howlter family were almost all home. Dil had returned to Potter's Splay alone a while ago and Tabitha had taken their son shopping before going home from work. It was only a few weeks before Dab had to go to school for the first time and Tabitha, being the organised mother she was, wanted to make sure that he was all prepared.

It was sunny outside (of course it was; it was June) and it had been Dil and Tabitha's last day of work before they were to go away for a week, camping at Granite Falls. The last time they'd gone on a little 'holiday' was back in February and they were just about ready for another break.

They couldn't leave Dab at home, but he hadn't much wanted to go with them, either. Nor had he wanted to have a childminder look after him, so Dil and Tabitha had had to put their heads together to think of a solution. Eventually they had come up with a great plan that would work out a treat.

Dab had no idea what they'd thought of – as far as he knew, he was staying home alone like he wanted – but this warm evening as he walked home with his mother, he was about to find out what was _actually_ going to happen.

Tabitha decided to say it straight without wasting time: she was the kind of mother who didn't believe in leading up to things only to disappoint, instead she got it over and done with as soon as possible.

"Me and your dad found a solution for the holiday thing," she said, bluntly, rather out of the blue, "We got you a baby-sitter."

Dab stopped walking for a second, picked up pace again after a while, frowned and looked upwards, his hair blowing about in the wind.

"But _mum_ …" he moaned, "I said I didn't need a baby-sitter… Remember that weird lady with the cat jumper who came once? She was really weird…"

"Oh, no, I think you'll like this one," Tabitha smirked, "And his friend."

Dab paused before responding,

"There are two this time?" He asked.

Tabitha nodded,

"Yes; they're both very nice and I'm sure you'll have loads of fun with them," she assured him.

Dab gave an 'ooh…' of anticipation, his face lighting up,

"Do _I_ know them?" He asked.

"Yes, you do."

"Who are they?"

"You'll see…"

* * *

 _Knock, knock, knock._

A brash but short rapping at the front door was what sound alerted Dil at half past seven as he was scrubbing down the tabletop and trying to get everything neat and tidy.

He gave a smirk, knowing who would be there on the other side, waiting.

He rolled the cloth in his hand up into a ball, sprayed some more surface cleaner on the table and started to scrub again.

"Dab!" He called in the general direction of his child's bedroom, lifting his head a bit, "Do you want to go and answer the door for me?"

Dab came hurrying out of his room at once. He'd been told that his anonymous childminders would be arriving around this time and he couldn't wait to find out whom they would be.

So he bounded to the door and, with all his might, pulled it open, lifting his line of sight to stare up and meet the gaze of two people of whom he hadn't seen in quite a long time…


	2. Aroma

"U- Uncle Phil and Dan?"

"Hey, kid! How've you been?" Dan smiled.

Dab looked up to him, then to Phil, then back to Dan in a state of utter astonishment.

"Do you want a hug?" Dan asked with a laugh.

Dab nodded his head and held his arms out for Dan to kneel down and hug him. He never thought he'd see either of them again after them leaving a few months ago. He'd missed them loads and constantly used them as excuses, as every child does, to get his own way ('If Uncle Phil was here, he'd let me-') and now he got to spend another week with them, he couldn't be happier.

Yet he was too in disbelief to verbalise that properly.

When Dan let go, he directly stretched up to wrap his arms about Phil's waist (he was only just tall enough now to reach) and immediately recognised his familiar smell: the scent that he'd smell all over the cushions and blankets for a whole week after he and Dan left back in February. It was a nice smell: warm, clean, slightly bitter from a faint whiff of cologne, but still homely like fresh linen. His breath also always had a sugary tinge of fruitiness, like red wine. It was odd, but not unpleasant in the slightest.

"I haven't seen you in forever!" Dab chirped, holding Phil so tightly that his hipbones started to dig into his arms.

Phil gave a laugh, pushed his black-rimmed glasses back up his nose and patted Dab on the back, bending his knees slightly so that his hip wouldn't break under the pressure.

"You know, it's not been _that_ long…" he sniggered, "But still – haven't you grown?! Your feet reach all the way to the floor now," and he smirked at his own joke.

Dab did not get the joke.

Dil appeared in front of them a few moments later, wearing a content grin on his face, still holding a bottle of cleaner and a cloth in his hands,

"So, you think you'll be able to manage this time around, too?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm sure," Dan nodded, confidently, "Everything was fine last time, wasn't it?"

What he said wasn't quite the truth, but it wasn't a lie, either: nobody died, so everything was _technically_ fine _._

"It'll be tons of fun," Phil agreed as Dab released his leg, "We've been wanting to come back for months, and now you have the satellite, we finally can."

Dab looked up to him, confused at the mention of the satellite. He hadn't heard his father say anything about how he'd brought the duo here, but it didn't really matter, all he knew was that it was _something_ to do with a satellite.

Dil gave a nod,

"I'm so glad to have you back again, too!" He said with a happy grin, "It feels like forever!"

Phil and Dan returned smiles but didn't say anything. They were still getting their breath back; after all, they'd only just arrived in a flurry of cipher and a twinkling of binary code too confusing to begin to recall. It had been the same sort of experience going home last time, only instead of coding, there had been shards of glass flashing around them and everything had happened much quicker.

"Come inside, then, you two!" Dil continued, "Don't just stay out here in the cold all day; make yourselves at home."

Making themselves at home wasn't a very difficult job for Phil and Dan: ever since February, Potter's Splay had been like a second home to them. It held memories (some good, some… not very good) for them, too, and as they walked through the door, they felt washed over with nostalgia.

It was like being transported straight back to February again, only much warmer.

As he scanned his eyes over the room, Dan noticed that there were neatly folded sheets placed delicately on the sofa next to the cushions.

The air was crisp and clean with the faint scent of cooking accompanying the smell of cleaning agents.

Phil always liked to relate experiences and places to smells and this particular mix of aromas just reminded him of the times (whether they be good or bad) spent here only a few months prior. Mostly of the times that he'd spent alone when the only thing he could do to occupy his mind was think about the smells.

They weren't great memories, but it had turned out all right in the end.

Shaking his head and closing his eyes to get rid of those recollections, Phil brushed himself off and righted his fringe. He turned to see Dan, who also looked very reflective about everything.

"Are you alright there?" Phil asked, quietly, with a wistful smile.

Dan looked across to him and nodded, shifting about on his feet as he did, before dragging him closer by the sleeve.

It was odd to be back in this world again.

It was strange the first time (Outré, as Dan had said), but being back was… almost even weirder. None of this was real, except it was becoming like a second home to them, and that was a very odd thought to consider.

Hopefully nothing bad would happen this time around, not like their-

No.

Let's forget all about that.

"It's really nice to be back here again," Dan said, eventually, as Dil made eye contact with him.

"It's great to have you back," Dil agreed with an enthusiastic smile, "Hey, are you two staying or what? Take your shoes off already, don't just stand there: come and sit down!"

Phil gave a firm nod and bent down to untie his laces, his spine clicking in several places as he did, and slipped his shoes off.

Taking your shoes off and feeling the floorboards underneath your feet emits a feeling that you've finally arrived home and for some reason it just fills you with a sensation of calm, like you're ready to snuggle down on the sofa (preferably with a friend) with almost all of the lights off apart from only one lamp that emits a warm glow and the television illuminating the room. Ideally you would also have a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate.

It was a relatively warm day today (as it always seemed to be in this idealistic world of aesthetic cherry blossom trees and fresh green grass) and Dan couldn't wait to sit down with a cold drink in the garden, on the bench opposite the pool, looking up at the stars that night.

He was looking forward to the week to come. He and Phil could finally get away from the stress of the move and the holiday and relax in a universe where nothing really mattered and they could return whenever they liked with nobody realising they'd ever left.

It was like Narnia, only with no talking lions or half goat human hybrids.

It was only when both Phil and Dan had laid their shoes to the side and gotten over their initial nostalgia that Tabitha came into the room with a beaming grin on her face, clearly ecstatic to see them again.

"Dan! Phil!" She chirped, heading over to them and reaching up to hug Phil, who'd been very polite and courteous to her the last time they'd been here.

She was only just tall enough to loop her arms around his neck before briefly hugging Dan, too.

"Oh, hey, Tabitha!" Dan hummed, "Looking forward to Phil and I house-sitting for you again whilst you're away?"

"As long as it's not too much work for you guys," Tabitha nodded, going slightly red, though you couldn't really tell through her makeup.

Tabitha had always been very polite to Dan and Phil, never asking anything of them and always making sure they were alright with the plans she and Dil had made before going through with them. Both Phil and Dan appreciated her motherly and considerate attitude, but sometimes it could make you feel like a bit of a burden.

"It's no problem at all," Dan assured her, "Trust me; we'll be fine. We managed alright last time, right?"

Tabitha's smile seemed to fall for a split second but she quickly regained it and continued,

"Well, if you say so," she nodded, "We trust you two, anyway."

Phil opened his mouth to speak but decided not to say anything at all in the end and instead slipped his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat.

"I certainly hope you'll find some way to entertain yourselves for a whole week," Dil chimed in.

"I'm sure we'll come up with something," Phil agreed.

"But all in all, I'm sure this time will be a whole lot more laid back than February," Dan put in.

"I didn't think February _was_ eventful…" Dil replied, scratching the back of his neck.

"I think what Dan is trying to say is that hopefully we won't have any encounters with Erica," Phil hurriedly said, saving Dan from having to explain everything.

Dil laughed. He didn't seem to have connected any dots yet so they were safe for now.

"I hope so, too," he chuckled, "Now let's get you two settled back in…"


	3. Boredom's a Pain

Nobody had any plans for that day.

Or course they wouldn't; nobody ever had any plans. It had been like this last time, too – they'd wake up every morning and have no idea what to do.

Only, this time, they didn't have an undying urge to go outside and do something.

It was fun enough to just lounge about inside, reminiscing and all that, even though it hadn't been _that_ long since they'd left.

Dil had set everything up for them already, before they'd arrived. To save from Dan having to sleep on the floor again, he'd tidied up the bed and agreed that, after he and Tabitha took their leave the next day, one of them could sleep there (there would probably be arguments concerning this arrangement later, but that wouldn't be Dil's problem). Yet, for now, Dan would have to curl up on the floor again.

Not that he minded; it would remind him of February, at least.

Or maybe he didn't want to remember February – this time was a new experience and he and Phil both wanted to start anew, forgetting about last time, greeting their old 'friends' again, and hopefully this week (and maybe the next if they decided to stay that long) could just be a relaxing opportunity for them both to sit back and unwind for a while.

Because last time certainly had not been relaxing.

At this current moment in time, everyone was sat on the sofas in the lounge, the Howlters on the long couch and Phil and Dan on the armchair, Phil somehow balancing on the arm, his feet flat on it as he rested his elbow on his knees, holding a mug of tea with his right hand.

And even though he and Dan were quite nervous about what would happen, they were both filled with a feeling of renewal. They'd come back experienced from their last 'adventure' and were ready to give it another shot. Maybe they could even restore their wilting reputations in the process.

"How long are you planning to stay, then?" Tabitha asked. Dil had planned the whole thing and she didn't have much knowledge of the specifics of what was going on.

"Thinking of a week or two. Maybe more, who knows?" Dan replied, "Depends on how long it takes us to make ends meet again."

"Is there something going on that I should know about?" Dil put in, sounding slightly concerned.

"Uh… no," Dan shook his head, realising he'd made it sound like he and Phil had fallen out with somebody, or something along those lines, "Nothing. I should have phrased that differently… As I was saying, we'll stay as long as we feel we should, but it'll most likely only be this week."  
"Well, I really do hope something will happen to make you stay longer," Tabitha smiled, giving a dainty laugh. Dil nodded his agreement and Dan cast a glance up to Phil, who met his gaze.

"We'll see," He smirked.

It was an ominous smirk.

"Well, you have the rest of the day to settle down, so why don't you relax on the sofa together, watch some TV and get yourselves established and all that?" Tabitha suggested, kindly.

"Actually, I was thinking we could go out for a bit of a walk and get some fresh air," Dan told her. Phil did not argue, so he continued, "We could take a stroll down to the park and see if we run into any old friends…"  
"Good idea, actually, Dan," Dil nodded, "You two should go do that. Tabitha and I will be here making sure everything is absolutely perfect!"

Dan gave a wide grin,

"Great!" He chirped, "We'll go in a minute…"

"Wow, it's warm out here, isn't it?" Phil observed, brushing back his fringe and looking around.

The perfect weather alongside it being mid June made the air around them hot and humid and there was no gentle breeze drifting though the trees, either, to cool them down.

"Good observation," Dan answered, slightly sarcastically, "Don't worry, you'll cool down once we start walking."

It was still so unreal to them that they were back here. It seemed like they'd never left at all, in fact. It felt like it was only yesterday that they'd both walked down this very path to the forest to break the barrier and return home.

It felt like it was only a few days prior that they'd-

"I feel floaty," Phil murmured, sliding his hands into his back pockets and swallowing a lump in his throat as he carried on walking, staring down to the ground.

"Are you going to pass out or something?"

"No, no, I'm fine, I just feel odd," Phil told him.

"Me, too," Dan replied, patting his back, "It's alright; we're probably just still dizzy because it's warm. Carry on walking, it'll pass," he assured him.

He couldn't help but wonder whom the first person they'd run into would be.

Probably Erica, knowing their history of ill-timed episodes…

They'd forgotten how long the walk was to Magnolia Blossom Park, but the journey was surprisingly enjoyable. They'd come to recognise everything that they saw and they'd picked up the names of all of the places, too.

"Look, there's Chez Llama…" Dan pointed out, gesturing across to the ornate building to their right, clicking the fingers of his hand that was looped around Phil's shoulders, "If I remember correctly, we went there twice back in February."

"We certainly did," Phil affirmed, "It was great. Better than any usual restaurants, at least."  
"What did we get? I can't quite remember."  
"Dyspepsia, but it was worth it."

"Ah yes, I remember now," Dan snickered, "We should go again and see if we _don't_ get nauseous."  
"To tell the truth, I'd be surprised," Phil replied, in all honesty.

You could never trust anything in that restaurant; everything had very odd names, such as 'Glacier Infused Iceberg Lettuce', 'Jungle Moss Egg with Lavender Wisps' and 'Volcano Pasta', the last one of which sounded a bit… messy.

Maybe this time, they'd just stick to eating at home or at the club on the Commercial District, which mainly just served drinks but sometimes had a bowl of crisps on the bar that you could pick at.

Carrying on down the road to the park, they passed the club, too, along with the Willow Creek Archive Library, 'Movers and Shakers' Gym and the Municipal Muses Museum, which was the most bare museum they had ever seen, though the garden was very nice. Back in February, they'd sat under the cherry blossom trees and watched the stars. It was one of the nicer memories they held about the place.

And then finally they arrived in sunny Magnolia Blossom Park.

This was the first place they visited the first time they were here after introducing themselves to Dil. It here that they met Eliza Pancakes for the first time, too, and she had somehow managed to… take them hostage. It was best to forget about that one time.

"Feels like only yesterday we were still getting our bearings," Dan said, gazing around the cherry blossom trees and hedges all around, "Remember how confused we both were?"

"How could I forget?" Phil sighed, but he still smiled. He could certainly recall how bewildered they'd been, especially himself. He and Dan had had very different reactions to being stranded here.

Whilst Phil had been freaked out at fist but calmed down eventually, Dan had been calm until he and Phil were left to housesit and then he'd gradually become more agitated. There had been a very bad few days for both of them, but they'd chosen to forgive and forget about that.

It was only a few days before they left that everything kind-of fell into place, but by that time, they were already almost done.

 _This_ time around, though, they were determined to make everything run smoothly.

Phil and Dan stared around the park, trying to see if they could see anybody they knew.

They weren't sure if they _wanted_ to see anybody they knew or not. It was best to avoid any awkward encounters and let Dil and Tabitha tell their friends that they were back in town, but knowing the Howlters, they'd probably forgotten.

At first, they didn't see anybody but then, at the other end of the park, underneath a very tall tree, Dan set his eyes upon a blonde woman wearing a blue, stripy polo shirt and a navy skirt.

"It's your girlfriend," Dan teased in a whisper, nodding his head as an indiscreet way of pointing.

Phil seemed confused for a few seconds but quickly realised who Dan was talking about and a lump started to form in his throat.

" _Ach-_ not Summer…" he breathed, taking a step backwards and adjusting his glasses on his nose, squinting to make sure it _was_ actually Summer he could see.

It was.

"What's wrong, Phil? Not over the moon to see her again?" Dan smirked.

"Don't joke, Dan, we should probably avoid her," Phil frowned, "Remember before? I just don't think she can take hints," he sighed, recollecting the many eyelash flutters and winks he'd received, "I mean, she's very pretty and it's not that I don't appreciate the compliments, I just wish she didn't go about giving me them in… the way she does."

Dan had to hold back a loud laugh and he shook his head,

"Alright then, we'll try not to be seen," he agreed eventually, "But if she comes over to say hello, just try and keep yourself together."

Phil smiled. He was trying his hardest to take things as well as he could and, even though he was tired, he was determined to take the rest of the day as it came, and if not, at least he'd have a week to mend things.

He'd learned his lesson from last time.

He was forced to bring himself back to reality, however, when he saw movement through his absent-minded vision: waving.

"Well… too late…" he coughed, straightening his back so his shoulders were straight, "Ready for our first interaction of the day?"


	4. Memory Lane

"Summer! Hey!" Dan smiled, as happily as he could. He didn't much like Summer, either, but it was only human to be nice to her.

He didn't know why he didn't like her, exactly, but maybe it was because she was always all over his best friend. In any case, Summer soon bounded over, looking extremely excited to see them both again.

"Phil!" She chirruped first, practically leaping at Phil, who stood in absolute shock, having the breath knocked out of him almost instantaneously.

He was able to regain his footing once Summer let go of him and turned her head to Dan now,

"And Dan…" she said, quite a bit less enthusiastically, "I thought you two were out of town? What brings you back over here, then?"

"Ah, you know, just thought we'd come to stay for a while and hang about a bit more, y'know?" Dan replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Right…" Summer nodded, not really smiling at all now. It seemed _she_ didn't much like _Dan_ , either, "Are you staying with the Howelters again?" She asked, looking back to Phil and getting her grin back.

"We certainly are," Phil affirmed, "I tell him we'll stay for at least a week and they heartily say they hope some occasion will detain us longer," he explained, letting his eyes drift off to look behind Summer and to the trees in the middle distance, "I dare say they're serious, too…"

"Well, I certainly welcome you back, too!" Summer giggled, "It's so lovely to have you back again! Maybe you can hold another house party sometime; that would be brilliant!" And she cast a gaze over her shoulder, "I really should be going now, though: my housemates are waiting for me, but I'll see you around!" And she blew a kiss to Phil before hurrying off to two Sims at the other end of the park: one blonde man wearing a maroon, argyle sweater, and one brunette woman wearing a green flat-cap on her head.

Phil was very glad that Summer left before things got even _more_ awkward. He was also very glad that it wasn't Erica who they had run into as their first interaction.

To say Summer was still acting a bit weird, their encounter didn't go too badly in the end – it was short and sweet and not _too_ creepy – though the frown that Summer gave to Dan for a few seconds was rather concerning…

Maybe it was because Dan was over-protective, but still, it was plain to see that Summer held something against him, and didn't mind him knowing it.

"You alright?" Dan asked, smiling at his friend, who still looked a tad shaken.

"I'm fine," Phil nodded, meeting his gaze and slowly forming his mouth into a smile: that slightly wonky, smirk of a smile that he always seemed to have.

"Should we sit down somewhere and try to cool off?" Dan suggested, turning away and eyeing a bench in front of some bushes to his left.

"Yeah, that'd be great – I'm way too hot."

"Summer would agree with you."  
It took Phil a while to get the joke.

The bench in front of the bushes was wooden but the sunny yellow cushions were still strangely hot and there were two bumble-bees buzzing around the flowers behind, collecting bits of pollen to spread to other plants.

Not being bothered by the insects, both Phil and Dan practically collapsed onto the seat, falling onto each other in exhaustion. Usually walking that far wouldn't be too bad, but in this heat, it felt like a super long trek.

Dan looked about the sun-drenched park.

Even here, where many funny little things had happened, held a few bad memories.

This blissful, bright park was where he had come the night that he and Phil had had their disagreement. It had looked different at night when it was all quiet and nobody was around.

He had wandered down the farthest path and to the picnic area that looked out over a large river. There he had sat down on the ground and looked over the water at how it sparkled in the moonlight, but he couldn't focus on the pretty sights because he was still livid with his friend.

He stayed and camped out under trees for that night until, the night after, when of course he couldn't sleep, he realised his giant mistake and eventually plucked up enough courage to head back to Potters Splay. He'd knocked on the door of the house, but seeing as it was 1AM, there was no answer, so he trudged back to Magnolia Blossom Park and fell into a slumber on a bench beside the water.

It was later on that morning that he'd started to wander back to the main part of the park to sulk and look onto the road when he saw Phil again, half-asleep at a chess table, looking drained and bruised and with a nasty gouge on the side of his face.

They'd made up, of course, but the guilt and a sense of distrust hung around afterwards for days.

Dan decided to put these thoughts out of his head and instead chose to focus on the good aspects of February. There had been a good many of them, too.

Naturally, the house party was the best of them.

Dan gave a wide grin and averted his eyes from the long path in the distance – of which he'd probably start to deem 'memory lane' – and instead turned back to Phil.

This week he was determined to ensure that everybody stayed right as rain.


	5. Sunset

The familiar sound of a phone's ring tone was what suddenly awoke Phil Lester as his eyes shot open and the glare of the sun came streaming into his irises.

As the ring tone finished, he blinked in the intense daylight to try to clear his vision and sleepily looked around the park through the wonky lenses of his glasses that had fallen sideways as he'd slept.

He was about to sit up straight and start waking up, but he decided not to.

 _"Hey!"_ Dan said, cheerily yet quietly, trying not to wake his friend properly, _"What's up?"_

Phil yawned and listened to his conversation, trying to identify the voice on the other side of the line. It sounded familiar but he couldn't quite tell who it was.

" _Oh, is it? Sorry, I lost track of time..."_ Dan continued, " _Yeah, we'll be back soon; don't you worry… Alright, sure thing, no worries… See you soon."_

And then the call ended.

Phil heard Dan lock his phone and place it down on the arm of the bench before tapping the screen with his fingernails in a steady rhythm.

Opening one eye to squint up to him, Phil opened his mouth to speak.

"Was that Dil?" He asked, huskily, closing his eye again.

"It was, indeed," Dan nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket, "Just making sure we were OK because apparently it's after half eight and we've been out for almost two hours."  
"Have we?" Phil breathed, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

"Yeah, we should probably start heading back now that we've gotten more than our daily dose of fresh air."

Phil managed to let out a quiet laugh at Dan's reminder that this was the most exercise they'd had in quite a while and stretched his arms before opening his eyes fully to gaze around the park again.

Of course, it was still swelteringly hot even though the sun was getting gradually less bright and was glaring of the lenses of Phil's glasses, giving him a sensation of a headache coming on.

"Are you coming?" Dan asked as he stood up, holding out a hand to his friend to help him to his feet.

Phil nodded, without taking his hand, and stood up, his legs still wobbly underneath him. He averted his eyes to stare at the llama hedge ahead of him. He'd missed the sight of these little, strange and random things and quirks placed around this universe. You don't get anything like this back home.

"You alright?" Dan asked, bringing him back to reality.

Phil turned to quickly to him that his fringe flipped across his forehead. He gave a short chuckle and nodded his head,

"I'm fine," he affirmed, "Now let's go before the Howlters start wondering if something terrible has happened to us," and, looking to Dan for one last smile of approval, stuck his hands in his pockets and started on his way out onto the main road again.

It wasn't a long walk back to the road: they hadn't ventured far into the park – they probably would have gone down Memory Lane if they hadn't have run into Summer, who had walked down there after greeting them – so it was only a few paces away.

Dan supposed that the reason that this time seemed a whole lot different from before was not only because it was now warmer, but also because back in February, they hadn't really taken the time to admire the scenery: they'd either been to confused, too miserable or too angry to care about trees.

He and Phil turned left along the path when they got to the road and even though they didn't speak, Dan could tell that he was feeling just as absorbed as himself.

The time was nearing 9:00 and the sun was starting to go down now, so even though they were walking towards it, it didn't blind them as much as it would have a few hours ago.

Another good thing about it getting later was that now they could see the sunset.

Sure, it wasn't technically a _real_ sunset, but it was still surprisingly striking.

The oranges and yellows contrasted with the lush plants around and the trees were darkened to black with only a slight glimmer of green leaves around the edges where the light hit and shimmered through.

Ahead, Dan could see a meandering river flowing alongside the pavement, curving away towards them way after the path took a sharp turn to the right.

Swallowing and admiring the scenery, Dan couldn't help but slow down his walk to savour the moment a bit longer.

Phil slowed to match his pace and asked no questions as to why they were suddenly decelerating. In fact, he was glad that they did: he was in the same reflective mood as his friend.

They passed the museum with its charming cherry blossoms, the bar with its lights glaring out onto the pavement, the gym – where Dan remembered Dil had first met Eliza Pancakes – and finally the white, ornate library.

The places seemed to pass them by instead of them passing the places, as they hardly diverted their gazes to look anywhere but the sunset.

They only really stopped staring when they missed their turning and hurriedly back-pedalled a few steps to correct themselves.

They carried on at a steady pace, crossed the bridge over the river, passed Chez Llama again (of which had its illuminations still switched on and was looking very aesthetic) and crossed one final bridge before they could even _see_ Potter's Splay.

They sped up for the home stretch and happily yet sleepily gazed up the owl slide where the sunlight was just about peaking over the very top.

Admiring their own horrible taste in lawn ornaments and the unplanted roses lining the path, they finally reached and pushed open the door.

They noticed, just before they entered the house, a flash of movement from through the window beside the door. It was Dab, who had been patiently waiting for them to get back home so that he could show them his latest… art creation.

"Uncle Phil!" He chirped, skidding in front of both him and Dan and holding up a sheet of paper, "Look!"

"I- I'm looking…" Phil stuttered, surprised at the sudden emergence of a small child, "Hey, that's pretty good!" He said, eventually, when he had processed exactly what was happening.

Dab looked both happy and excited that his childminders approved and so beamed a huge grin up to them before scuttling off to tape it to the wall outside his bedroom, of which already had one sheet of paper stuck to it with his first painting on. Phil did not know what this painting was of, but it was named 'shapes' and it looked vaguely akin to a butterfly: a very square butterfly with some weird Magic Maize type stuff stuck to it.

It wasn't much, of course, but it still gave Phil a feeling of satisfaction knowing that it was him who had sparked this interest in drawing, even though he in himself wasn't very good at it.

Looking up, Dan noticed Dil walk into the room to greet them.

"Oh, good; you're back!" He said, cheerily, "Tabitha and I have just been getting everything ready. There are some sheets on the sofa for you-"  
"I noticed…"

"-So you'll have to fight it out for which one of you gets the sofa. I hope that'll be enough for you just for tonight. Tomorrow you'll have to decide who bags the bed."

"We'll Rock-Paper-Scissors it," Dan let him know.

"Great! And I've written out another schedule for you so you know the routine, alright?"

"That's _ace_ , thanks," Phil assured, his northern accent coming through as he said the word 'ace'.

He wouldn't have noticed had it not been for Dan's very quiet snigger (it was _very_ quiet – like a small fly sneezing consecutively three times).

"Brilliant!" Dil smiled, "Come on, then, Dab; let's get ready for bed."

And both Dil and Dab headed away into the child's bedroom.

"I think this time will go swimmingly, don't you?" Dan whispered when the Howlters had left the room.

Phil took both his and Dan's shoes and put them to the side, next to the door, before brushing himself off and giving a firm nod of agreement,

"I think so, too," he yawned, watching as Dan headed over to the sofa, picked up the two blankets and placed one down on the floor, keeping the other neatly tucked up under his arm as he piled the two matching sofa cushions up at one end of the chair.

"Do you want to talk about-" Phil started, but before he could continue, Dan cut him off.

"Absolutely not, pal," he retorted, bluntly, flashing a glare over to Phil, knowing what he was about to suggest, but after seeing the look on his face, he softened his expression, "Come sit down," he invited.

Phil cautiously wandered over to the sofa, his eyelids struggling to stay open, seeing everything in a blurred sort of vision.

He folded his legs underneath him to kneel on the sofa, and Dan took a seat beside him.

"I can assure you," Dan smiled, " _It won't happen again."_


	6. Short and Sweet

Tabitha winced as the wheels on her suitcase rattled, noisily, over the floorboards, making a thud every time they rolled over onto another plank of wood.

It always is that if you are trying your very hardest not to wake somebody, every little movement you make will seem even louder than it normally would.

She heard the creak of the floor behind her and stopped walking to listen out to check if anybody had awoken.

She was safe.

She and Dil were the only two awake at this very moment in time: they had to set off early to Granite Falls so that they could get there, buy their supplies, find a nice place to camp and then pitch the tent. They made sure to put aside an extra two hours for pitching the tent: it would surely take them a few more tries than it should with any normal person doing it.

The only thing that Tabitha had in the suitcase was their clothes and a first aid kit in case anything happened in the forest (trips, scrapes or being attacked by vicious tree monsters, for example. You never know what was alive here in the Sims universe: always have to take precautions).

Tabitha nodded to herself in satisfaction, knowing she hadn't woken anyone, and took one last look around the room to make sure she had everything she needed.

 _"Are we ready to go?"_ Came Dil's voice in a whisper from behind, almost making her jump.

 _"Yeah, we're all set,"_ Tabitha verified.

 _"Great!"_ Dil smiled and looked over to the sofa to see his two creators/house-sitters/childminders fast asleep, sat up and leaning on each other's shoulders, a thin white sheet spread across their legs.

After coming home the day before, Tabitha had given them a sleepy, brief rundown of the rota before heading off to bed to get some sleep before she had to wake up early the next morning. She guessed they'd just been so tired after their arrival and their walk that they'd just completely dropped off, huddled up beside each other like penguins. Not usually something they'd do, so they must've been exhausted.

" _You think they'll wake up in time?"_ Tabitha asked.

" _Of course they will; if they don't, Dab will sure wake them up,_ " Dil chuckled, very quietly, and his wife gave a warm yet tired smile.

Tabitha silently crept up to the sofa, trying to make as little sound as possible, picked up the edges of the blanket and tucked it around her friends' shoulders. She grinned to herself, a feeling of completeness washing over her, and decided that she'd done all she needed to.

" _Let's go, then,"_ she whispered to her husband and padded back over to the door to open it to the faintly chilly, early morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise and the sound of distant birdsong was just about audible. It was a very good day for camping.

Tabitha and Dil stepped outside, wheeling along the suitcase and, slightly too loudly, locked the door behind them.

Phil flickered one eye open at the sound of the lock turning in the catch and he managed a weary smile.

 _"They've gone,"_ he whispered, under his breath, expecting Dan to be awake, too, but he received no reply.

He let out half of a laugh and shook his head, gently. Of course Dan wouldn't be awake.

He considered getting up and making a surprise breakfast for everyone but he decided that it was too risky, considering his clumsiness and the fact that he probably couldn't stand up without waking his friend, so he gave a yawn, closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

He could hear the quiet creak and shuffle of Dab turning over in his room, the bed sheets ruffling, softly.

Phil decided that now was a very pleasant time to think.

The smell of linen that was drifting up into his nose from the thin blanket around him (which he didn't remember putting around his shoulders) calmed him enough to keep all his thoughts serene and cool, so he found his mind pondering over the week to come: all the things he'd planned out in his head before they arrived. He'd even made a mental list.

Whether any of his plans would go through was another thing entirely, but he thought that most of them were pretty good.

He was considering making ends meet with Erica, maybe meeting Bob properly for the first time, but mostly just spending his free time with his virtual family. Besides, that was what he and Dan were called here for.

His mind pored over the things he had premeditated to keep Dab entertained, too. He had thought of letting Evan come for a sleep-over, for one, and that would be rather fun to witness unfold. Evan would probably find him and Dan a tad… eccentric… but what did he care? Everybody has that one friend or family member who isn't quite there, having two would just double the fun.

Actually, Dab seemed the most human and normal out of all the family.

Dil was half Dan and half Phil so of course he was the most unconventional, and even Tabitha played with toy dinosaurs and carried around a bottle of 'monster killer' (water) in a spray bottle to ward away the imaginary beasts from under the bed, but Dab seemed to be the most human: he was artsy, somewhat more sensible than his parents already, and somehow had more of a social life than all of them.

Phil slyly smiled at this realisation and felt himself start to drift off again…

And everything in his mind told him that this week was going to be the indubitable best.


	7. Flowers and Wine

Dab had hurried out of his bedroom as soon as he woke up.

It was 9AM and the sun was streaming in through his window, so he sprang out of bed and put on his grey bunny slippers to bound out of the door.

First on his agenda was to wake up his childminders like he'd always do back in February. They never really appreciated it, but that added all the more reason to do it.

To his slight disappointment, though, when he entered the main room, he found that Phil was already awake, arms hanging, limply, over the back of the sofa as he rested his chin on the cushion.

"Good morning…" he murmured, sounding like he'd only just woken up.

"Good morning!" Dab grinned, "Can I have some breakfast?" He asked, wandering over and leaning on the arm of the sofa.

"Glasses," Phil ordered, blinking, his eyelids twitching.

Dab's face fell for a second, not knowing what he was talking about, but soon realised that his glasses were on the coffee table, so picked them up and handed them to him.

"Ta," Phil yawned, taking them and sliding them onto his nose, pushing them up and blinking until his vision cleared and he could finally see, "Oh, it's you," he muttered and flexed his fingers.

"Wow, you're _really_ blind!" Dab gawped, "You couldn't even tell who I was…"

"I was joking," Phil laughed, trying to be as quiet as he could. After all, he didn't want to wake Dan, "You want something to eat, then?"

"Yeah!" Dab nodded, enthusiastically, attempting to pull Phil up off the sofa. He almost did, too, because of Phil being so tired and so thin, but he eventually decided to let Phil stand up on his own.

Without disturbing Dan in the process, Phil shakily got to his feet and rolled his shoulders, brushing his hair up into a soft quiff as he made his way across the room to the kitchen, child close in tow.

"Cereal?" Phil offered.

"Of course," Dab chirruped.

"Can tell we're related," Phil mused with a smirk, getting onto one knee to open the kitchen cupboard and take a box of cereal in his hand, standing up, closing the cupboard door with his foot, putting the box down on the counter and fluently skidding across the tiles to swing open the fridge.

He found that he suddenly had quite a lot of energy and, even though he hadn't had a coffee, his vigour came from the environment: he had stuff to do and that managed to wake him up.

He made breakfast in no time at all and set the bowl down with a spoon on the table before spinning around when he heard a ruffle of a blanket from behind.

"Danny! Morning!" Phil hummed with a smile.

Dan gave half of a laugh and turned around to put his elbows on the back of the sofa and look up at his friend.

" _Hi…"_ he breathed, clearly still exhausted.

Dab gazed across to him from his seat at the table.

"Uncle Dan!" He grinned.

"Hey, kid. Looking forward to spending a week with me and Phil?" Dan asked, stretching and sitting up properly.

"Yeah!" Dab exclaimed, excitedly, "What can we do today?"

"Ask Phil."

"Phil, what can we-"

"I know, I heard you the first time," Phil chuckled, "Well… I did think that we could take a stroll down to Magnolia Promenade like we did last time, but then I thought maybe we should just stay inside and get ourselves sorted out, or we could draw, or… Really, it's up to you," he swallowed, his cheeks flushing, "I think I've thought this through a bit _too_ much…"

"Nah, mate, you're all prepared; I'm impressed."

" _Ach- I just got déjà-vu…"_

"From what?"

"You saying that. Did you say exactly the same thing in February whilst leaning over the back of the sofa? Because I have a feeling you did."

"I think you're just tired-"

Dan would've gone on, but at that very moment, there came a brisk knocking at the door.

Phil looked to Dan, Dan looked to Phil, they both said nothing but they both raised their eyebrows and stared at the door in the corner before regaining eye contact.

This was a very practical and secretive way of having a conversation with nobody hearing it.

"I'll get it," Phil decided at last, brushing himself down and smartly stepping over to the door in not quite a bounce but what could be described as a very, very brisk walk.

When he unlocked the door and warily opened it, he was surprised to see none other than Eliza Pancakes stood there with a beaming smile on her face and her hands behind her back.

She was wearing a pink T-shirt, a powder blue cap and a pair of white, slightly striped trousers: a very pastel-aesthetic outfit that Phil was sure Dan would wholly approve of.

"Phil! Hi!" She greeted him, very merrily.

Phil stood, silently, for a few moments, rather taken-aback by the sudden visitor at his doorstep.

"Very well, thanks," he replied, eventually, when he realised he hadn't answered, yet then he realised that he'd given completely the wrong reply, "I- I mean- 'hi'!" He hurriedly corrected himself.

Eliza laughed,

"Saves me having to ask you," she giggled.

Phil twitchily returned the laugh and felt his face colour.

"So… how are _you_?" He asked, still kind of suspicious.

"Oh, I'm very good, too," Eliza told him, "I saw that you were back in town yesterday and I thought that I should greet you both back with a little something for the house and for yourselves…" and she swept her hands out from behind her back to produce a bouquet of assorted flowers and a bottle of red wine.

"Oh- you didn't have to!" Phil stuttered, slightly embarrassed, but he still smiled, gratefully.

"What do you mean? I wanted to welcome you back!" Eliza said, holding out her gifts.

Phil gingerly took them and inspected the flowers. What did he want with flowers? They'd only die after a day in his care.

"Thank you!" he thanked Eliza anyway, still tautly, and was quiet for a while before looking over his shoulder for a split second.

He gave a low, droning hum of thought, tapping his foot, rhythmically, on the floor.

"Why don't you come inside?" He offered, "I was just about to start making tea…"

"That'd be great, thanks!" Eliza grinned.

Phil had been half-hoping she would refuse.

But they both headed back inside anyway, into the warmth. Not that it wasn't warm outside: it was June, after all.

"Dan! Do we have a vase?" Phil asked, eying the water dripping from the flower stems and onto the floorboards.

He decided to mop up the water with his sock.

He now had a damp foot.

He decided that mopping up the water with his sock had not been the best idea.

Dan got up, tiredly, from the sofa, his hair a mess, and wandered off to find a vase. If he couldn't find a vase, he'd just have to use a very large glass.

Phil hoped he would hurry up because his foot was getting increasingly damp.

"Hey, take a seat," he offered, gesturing to the armchair, "Sorry about the… mess," he continued, observing the messy sofa and lonely cushion that had fallen on the floor, "Dan's only just gotten up. I'm still kinda' tired from yesterday, too, so I apologise if I look an absolute wreck…"

"You look _great_ ," Eliza assured him, sitting down on the arm of the chair so she could still face him.

Phil appreciated the compliment, yet was still mildly unnerved. Eliza still had a habit of confusing him in this way – much like Summer did, but surprisingly less weird.

Eliza was strange, sure, but you could get used to it once you got to know her.

"Good morning, Aunty Eliza!" Dab called from the breakfast table. Eliza wasn't his aunt, of course – as Phil and Dan weren't his uncles – but 'aunty' was just a nice way to address a family friend.

Eliza waved to him, merrily, before turning back to Phil.

"Are Dil and Tabitha out today?" She asked.

"All week, actually – Dan and I are house-sitting…" Phil replied, seeing Dan enter the room empty-handed and head to the kitchen to find a very large glass instead, "Isn't that right, Dan?"

"Yep!" Dan nodded, as happily as he could even though he was still tired. He wondered why Phil was in such a good mood, since he was usually terrifyingly miserable in the mornings when he hadn't had anything to eat or even just a cup of coffee.

"Are you going back home after this week's up, then?" Eliza queried, curiously, swaying her legs back and forth.

"Maybe…" Phil mused. He wasn't quite sure, either, how long they would be staying for. As long as it took him to mend friendships, he supposed.

"Hopefully you'll stay longer; we'll have to have another get-together like the house party you held last time! That was great fun!" Eliza stated.

"Yeah, maybe we will…" Phil smirked, making eye contact with Dan.

"What are you plotting _now_?" Dan asked, holding out the biggest glass he could find in the cupboard (a pint glass that was stored right at the back and looked as if it had never been used) filled halfway with water.

"Ah… _nothing_ ," Phil snickered, dropping the flowers into the glass and wiping his hands on his shirt, "Anyway, as I was about to say _:_ I was supposed to make _tea!"_

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this was kinda boring: I had no idea what to write ;-;**  
 **I do have some very good ideas for later, though, so stay tuned...**  
 **-Whisker**


	8. And Everything's Fine

Dan blinked once in the light of the sun streaming in via the window. He should have been talking to their visitor, but instead he found himself transfixed by the tiny specks of dust that showed up in the air as the light shone through the glass.

He always found the sight of these dust spores very relaxing and would happily watch them for hours if left to his own devices with nothing better to do.

It was an odd feeling when he zoned out like this. Everything around him seemed to fade away: voices dulled, noises faded into non-existence and, to some extent, there was no feeling – pain would fade away and suddenly Dan would feel like he was floating in a void with only the smell of linen and the company of the dust around him.

His eyes couldn't divert from the light, he couldn't make out words that people were saying around him and instead interpreted it all as a low hum that occasionally changed pitch.

It might have been because he was tired, but he definitely felt a bit like he was hovering.

The only thing that kept him tethered to reality was the intermittent, erratic laughter seeming to echo from beside him, and then Dan would smile because laughter is contagious and he would inevitably hear a concerned, distant query of 'are you alright?' if he didn't smile now and again.

Smiling wasn't that hard, really.

Blinking again, his eyes stinging from all the staring he'd been doing, Dan brought his mug up to his mouth, holding it with his left hand, and breathed in the smell of warm tea.

He took a sip before putting the cup back down on his leg again and shuffling about slightly.

He was sat leaning his right elbow on the arm of the settee, his chin resting in his palm, and his legs up on the cushions.

The sofa wasn't very long, though, so the ends of his legs and his feet ended up on his friend's knee and every so often he'd feel an arm come to rest over his ankles.

He let his eyelids partially close and tried to tune in to the conversation taking place beside him.

The one thing that piqued his interest was Eliza saying something in a very jolly manner.

"Dab will have to come over to ours sometime to play with Evan!" She suggested.

"Yeah, I was thinking of that…" Phil mused, thoughtfully, "I thought that a sleepover would be fun for them both, too. It'd give me and Dan a chance to relax, too…"

"That'd be really fun!" Came Dab's excited voice, emanating from the other side of the room. He was still sat at the table and had been for a good 30 minutes.

Dan still didn't make eye contact but instead smiled and nodded, humming 'I agree' in response to both what Phil had said and what Dab had ecstatically chirruped, too.

"Maybe later on in the week, though," Phil decided, and for once, Dan turned to the left to look at him.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"Well, we have the responsibility of child-sitting, don't we? We should at least spend some time actually doing our jobs instead of throwing our load on anyone else," Phil replied. Then the left corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smirk, "Besides, I had plans…" he said.

Dan was slightly concerned by this repeated mention of 'plans' but he knew he shouldn't worry. Besides, it was usually himself who came up with the plans – it was good to let Phil handle things for once. Just as long as he didn't over-work himself.

"What kind of plans were you thinking?" Dan asked, nonchalantly.

"Ah, not much," Phil shrugged, "Just some peaceful, quality 'family time', as they say, you know? Nothing much. I'm making it sound ominous, aren't I?" And he laughed.

Dan nodded, a sleepy smile on his face.

"Sorry," Phil sniggered, "I just find it funny when you don't know what I'm planning. It's nothing exciting."

"Is it something to do with me?" Came Dab's little voice again.

"Partially?" Phil murmured, as if he didn't quite know how to word it.

Dan brushed his awkwardness off and instead looked back to the window, in the hopes of finding the dust pores floating about again, but the sun had moved around a bit and the dust was starting to fade.

Feeling the cold all of a sudden, Dan hunched his shoulders and twisted round so that his back was resting on the arm of the sofa.

"And of course, you need to come and meet Bob some time!" Eliza suggested, enthusiastically.

Bob was the most un-interesting Sim in the world. The only thing Dan could remember of him was that he wouldn't let anyone else play horseshoes when the Howlters went camping with him and Eliza.

"Though, I'm sure you'll already know, he's not very exciting…" Eliza muttered.

So evidently she realised that her husband was more than a little monotonous.

Before either Phil or Dan could say anything in response, her face fell and she seemed to scan around the room with her eyes, as if she was searching for something.

"Something wrong?" Dan asked, sitting up straight and swinging his legs around so that his feet were on the floor.

"Oh, I was just… looking for a clock," Eliza responded, "What time is it?"

"I think it's almost ten…" Phil told her, though he didn't seem quite sure, "I'll double check…" and he bent over to reach over to the table and unlock his phone.

The time was, indeed, 10AM.

"I've just remembered I have to get back home to start making dinner!" Eliza exclaimed, "Sorry I couldn't stay longer; I would've loved to start organising something for later in the week, like a get-together, but maybe another time, right?"

"Right!" Phil grinned.

Dan didn't really mind Eliza leaving. She still had a bit of an odd vibe and he didn't know whether he could fully trust her with the child that was under his and his friend's care, but if Phil thought it was a good idea, he just supposed he'd have to support that decision.

"Well, it's been nice seeing you two," Eliza concluded, putting her cup down on the table and standing up.

"Yeah, it has," Phil replied, standing up with her to escort her to the door. It was only polite.

"See you around, yeah?"

"Of course!" He nodded, opening the door to let her out.

Just before she was about to say goodbye and gaily trot off, back across the road to her house, she made a little noise like an 'ooh' and span back around again.

"One last thing before I go," she started, "I heard Summer Holiday is planning a masquerade party at her house on Sunday; it'd be great if you and Dan could come and I'm sure Summer would appreciate it! I'll be there!"

And without another word, she went merrily on her way.

Phil stood and stared out onto the road for a while after her leaving, his gaze fixated in the middle-distance.

"Are you OK?" Dan asked, sounding very concerned, feeling the mildly warm outside air drift in through the open doorway.

It took his friend a strangely long time to reply, but eventually he did, sharply turning to the right with a distant expression on his face.

His look softened and he swallowed before giving a slight smile to Dan.

"This is fine," he assured him.

He didn't sound convinced.


	9. Laid Back For One

**A/N: Petrichor... more like... Petri-BORE, amirite?**

 **Help me**

* * *

For Dan, a person who hardly ever went outside, summer was just the time of year when it was warm enough to walk around inside without trousers and leave the windows on the catch, but for some reason, as soon as he'd arrived here in this universe again, he had a sudden urge to not stay inside.

Maybe it was because this world had a vibe to it that made it that every day seemed like a new opportunity to get out of the house and _do something_.

Dan had always been somebody who procrastinated. He'd put off doing anything and everything and instead decide to mindlessly browse the internet all day, ignoring Phil's repeated efforts to get him to finally make the video he'd inevitably been postponing for weeks.

Today, though, Dan had an urge to get out into the fresh, June air.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Came a confused laugh from behind him all of a sudden.

It was Phil… of course.

Dan turned around to face him and smirked.

"I thought I should go for a swim," he replied, holding up a fluorescent green swimming shorts – Dil's, of course – with silhouettes of palm trees printed onto them.

Phil's expression turned to one of surprise and he laughed again, raising his eyebrows.

Dan didn't know whether he looked surprised because of the news that Dan was going outside or if it was just because of the bright green shorts.

"Not going to help me with housework?" Phil muttered, jokingly, folding his arms and leaning on the doorframe.

"There's no housework to _do_ ," Dan told him with a snort, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, there's…uh… there's things…" Phil stammered, trying to attempt to think of something that needed doing, "Like… socialising with Dab!" He decided, "Gotta keep him entertained, right?"

"Ah, just stick him on the internet and he'll be happy for hours," Dan said, nonchalantly, with a flick of his wrist as he turned away.

"In which case, I'd have to be there to supervise him," Phil retorted, "And wouldn't be able to do… other things."

"Other things?"

"Other things," he repeated.

Dan laughed and looked over his shoulder to his friend, throwing the swimming shorts down onto the bed in front of him.

"He'll be fine," he assured him, "Why don't you join me?"

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, mate," Phil replied, standing up straight and tapping his foot on the floor, "You have your fun; I'm not really a pool person," and he smiled before walking away.

Dan was sure that Phil _was_ actually a pool person and was just thinking of excuses, but he brushed this off and continued what he was doing, but not before casting a gaze up to Melapples on the wall and appreciating the fine art.

Maybe 'fine art' was glorifying it…

After getting changed and folding up his clothes, nice and neatly, Dan decided that something extra was needed to complete his pool experience, and that thing was a drink.

Good job they had a mixing bar, still, in the front room.

He'd never really mixed his own drinks before, but he just threw together whatever sounded interesting and hoped that it would come out palatable.

Through his mixing adventure, he could feel Phil's eyes watching him from the kitchen where he was stood. He'd been washing up the cups from earlier but had finished that now and was now drying them with a tea towel and staring at Dan in the process.

"You remind me of Dil," he sniggered before he turned to put the mugs back in the cupboard.

"Do I?" Dan hummed, walking over to him, feeling the rough floorboards beneath his bare feet, "It must be the trunks."

"You just need the green vest and you're all set," Phil nodded, but he didn't make eye contact.

"Where's Dab?"

"Getting dressed in his room."

"Right."

"Don't worry, I've got everything covered! You enjoy your float… I'd say swim but there's not quite enough room for that."

"We should really extend that pool," Dan mused, wandering out of the back door and making his way to the water. He just hoped that nobody he knew would walk by and see him. Especially Summer.

Which reminded him of the 'masquerade' thing that was supposed to be happening in two days.

Who even does masquerade parties anymore?

Summer, he supposed.

Nevertheless, even though it was weird, Dan thought it sounded like great fun and resolved to make sure he turned up. He was sure Phil would come, too, even if he had seemed a little uneasy about it earlier when Eliza had brought it up, but maybe he was just unnerved by the mention of Summer.

Dipping his feet in the water to test the temperature beforehand, Dan stepped down the ladder into the warm pool.

It was an odd pool: it was very deep – as deep as his thoughts, even. You could only just see the bottom of it and so you had to lean on the sides of the decking for safety; the only thing keeping you from slipping down what seemed like an unreal depth.

Dan made sure that he was supported on his shoulders before relaxing in the heat. The sun was shining down on him and he had to squint his eyes to stop himself being blinded as he gazed down the street to see what he could see.

Down the sunny road, past next-door's huge house, there was a large lake with a narrow footpath running alongside it. Dan was pretty sure that it was a shortcut to the park, but both he and Phil preferred to take the scenic route, even though it was a whole lot longer.

Dan smiled and closed his eyes to stop himself getting a headache from the sun.

He took a sip of whatever he'd mixed up in the glass in his hand and found it surprisingly nice. Maybe he should take up mixology in his spare time.

The only thing that could make his mood better would be having Phil beside him to talk to. He supposed he'd have to talk to himself instead.

 _"Nice day today…"_ he whispered. Hopefully Phil didn't hear.

He was indoors, so he probably didn't.

Unless he was eavesdropping.

How rude.

Waving his legs in the water, Dan pondered over all of the things that he and Phil could do this week to keep Dab happy whilst his parents were away. They could take him shopping, show him some of their videos maybe, do some crafts again, read him stories every night and maybe they could even build a pillow fort; pillow forts are always great fun.

Perhaps Phil would even be able to teach him a few card tricks so that he'd be able to impress the Pancakes when he went to stay.

Everything was very relaxed and unperturbed this time around. Even Phil seemed pretty laid-back for once.

Dan opened his eyes again and frowned, tapping his fingers on the decking beside him.

He wondered how long this tranquillity could last…


	10. A Little Bit of Yawn

Dab Howlter was pretty ecstatic about spending a week with Dan and Phil, but he also had no idea what he wanted to do with them.

Maybe just quality time was enough, but he noticed that neither Phil nor Dan had any ideas on what to do, either, so he decided to simply sit at the table and draw. Every so often he'd turn around and cast a gaze out of the back door to see Dan, looking like he was greatly enjoying himself in the sun.

Whatever Phil was doing, he was being very secretive about it, though. Every so often, he'd walk into the room at a brisk pace, look around him, squint at something or other, then swiftly slink back into another room.

Dab was pretty sure he'd seen Phil in two different outfits in only half an hour, but he seemed to have settled for a plain, white shirt.

He was being a bit boring today. It was very unlike him.

He seemed to have developed an odd mannerism of holding himself with his back very straight, causing him to look even taller than he actually was.

Every so often, he'd stand in the middle of the living room and absent-mindedly stare out of the window for a minute or two, tapping his foot on the floorboards, and Dab would watch him and wonder what he was contemplating.

It was only at 11:30 that Phil finally made a move to actually do something and slunk out of the back door, watching Dab as he did, closing it behind him as he went to stand on the decking beside the pool.

Dab couldn't hear what he said, but Dan got up soon enough and followed Phil back inside, disappearing into the bedroom afterwards.

"Thought we could go out for dinner," Phil said, eventually, to Dab, looking over his shoulder at the paper he was drawing on, "Fancy Chez Llama? We can go the short route along the river if you don't want to walk the long way around."

"That'd be great!" Dab grinned. The last time he'd been to Chez Llama was the one time he went with both his parents and Dan and Phil – the time Erica had sat in the booth opposite them and frowned the whole way through the meal – and he'd been too young then to really enjoy it, so another trip seemed a good idea, "Thanks, uncle Phil," he laughed, turning around to face him, making sure to show he was grateful.

Phil smirked and put his hands behind his back,

"That's alright. It was Dan's idea, really," he said before moving to the bathroom to fetch a towel to clean up the wet footprints his friend had left on the floor.

"They'd dry anyway," Dan pointed out to him, sticking his head around the doorframe.

"Hey, I'm not having damp patches on my floor," Phil retorted, but still smiled.

Dan laughed at him and shook his head,

" _Your_ floor…" he repeated as he headed back into the bedroom.

Phil stood up straight again, tossing the towel up and down in his hand,

"Well, it's _my_ house _now_ …" he whispered, a bit more gravely than he probably should have.

Dab's face fell and, even though neither he nor Phil could see him, Dan frowned, too.

He was concerned that his friend was taking his responsibilities a tad too seriously.

Of course, it was good that he was dedicated, but the whole point of this trip was to relax and have a bit of fun.

Never mind; Dan was sure he'd lighten up sometime.

That's mostly why he'd suggested Chez Llama.

Taking his mind off of being concerned for his friend, Dan set about looking for a fancy outfit to wear to their meal out: nothing too formal, but something that still looked nice enough so that he wouldn't get kicked out.

He settled for a black shirt, at long last, and a thin, red tie. He tucked this top into his moderately smart jeans so it would ruffle out at the edges.

As he left the bedroom, he saw that the main part of the house was empty. Clearly, Phil had insisted on getting Dab ready, too.

Deciding to lighten the load on Phil's shoulders, Dan rolled up his sleeves and washed up the glass he'd used earlier. He made sure to stand here at the sink until Phil saw him and appreciated that he was all right with helping out.

"Oh! Thank you…" he heard a quiet laugh from the other side of the room.

He turned and smiled as he saw Phil, and Dab beside him.

"You didn't need to dress up," Dan sniggered, drying his hands and admiring his friends' outfits.

"It's Chez Llama, Dan," Phil reminded him, "Thought we should look our best. What about you?"

"It's June!" Dan laughed, "You're going to be sweltering in a jacket, pal," he muttered, "Though I do like the pastel blue-ness…"

"Thought you might," Phil nodded, "I can always take it off."

"Suppose so," Dan agreed, "And Dab, too! Looking good there, kid. Nice waistcoat."

Maybe Dab looked the most dapper of them all with his baby blue chinos and tiny, black bow tie. He and Phil were almost matching (maybe only because they were both wearing bow ties, but that's not the point).

"Ready?" Phil asked, brushing himself down and looking, fondly, at Dab's wide smile.

"Ready," Dan affirmed.

He thought that eating out was probably more of an evening thing, but everyone seemed to be a bit bored and some fresh air would probably do them all a world of good.

Phil made doubly sure that the door was locked behind them as they left the house and, when he turned back around, felt immediately too warm. Not wanting to take his jacket off and admit he was wrong, he decided to grin and bear it.

He gave his friend a pat on the back to signal that they should really get going because otherwise they'd never find a table, and felt Dab hold onto his sleeve as they all set off.

Phil did not know why Dab didn't hold his hand instead of his sleeve, but at least it gave him the chance to put his hands in his pockets and try to act like he wasn't melting.

It was proving a difficult job.

As they all crossed the first bridge and turned to their right slightly, they caught sight of the big paddle steamer that usually sailed down the river, cruising past Courtyard Lane, its massive wheels churning through the water. Of course, Dab insisted they stop on the bridge for a bit to admire the machine.

The child seemed to be transfixed by the huge boat and stared up at it with a look that could only really be described as wonderment.

Or awe – awe is a good word.

Actually, the look could be described as a lot of things, but let's just stick with wonderment.

Growing ever so slightly impatient, Dan gazed down the path ahead, shifting his line of sight to rest between two houses (one of which was Summer Holiday's house, but he didn't know that) and found himself looking straight at the restaurant.

So near.

Yet so far.

He felt a gnawing at the pit of his stomach and frowned. He could almost smell the… weird experiments that somehow Chez Llama managed to class as 'food'. Dan wasn't even sure whether it was even legal to serve whatever that stuff was, but perhaps laws about food were different here.

That thought was more than a little concerning.

"Phil? Are we going to keep on going?" He asked, softly tugging at his friend's sleeve in a desperate effort to signal that he was ravenous for 'food'.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Phil smiled, "Come on, then, Dab, let's go," and he turned to carry on walking, child close in tow.

Phil passed it off as hunger pangs, but he started to feel a bit of a stabbing in his chest and a hot shiver down his spine. Maybe it was just the heat that was making him sweat, but nevertheless, he brushed his hair up and heaved a sigh, gathering all his strength to make it to Chez Llama.

He was tempted to get Dan to carry him the rest of the way, but thinking about it, that would be both unfair and very strange-looking.

Besides, he wanted to keep an eye out for any strange occurrences: he had an odd feeling that something was a tad off.

The only thing that Phil could possibly think that he was uneasy about was the fact that whenever he went outside, he always seemed to run into somebody who he knew.

He still counted it as nothing, though, and acted pretty nonchalantly as he wandered down the pavement.

Little did he know, he had a right to be uneasy.


	11. Looking Gentlemanly

Ordering at fancy restaurants was one of the situations most dreaded by Daniel Howell and Philip Lester.

The piercing, icy cold stare of the intolerant waiter or waitress that penetrated right through your very soul as they impatiently awaited your faltered order that came in short bursts of awkward stammer.

Phil was especially bad for this. As in many social situations, his mouth decided to not work properly and suddenly he couldn't make any noise at all.

If he did manage to make any noise, though, it would come out in a strong, Northern accent.

It was in situations like these that Dan had to gather all of his responsible willpower to not burst into fits of giggles. Even after many years, wasn't used to his friend's sudden outbursts of Lanky Twang.

Dan had come up with the brilliantly _awful_ idea that one person should decide what the person to their right ate. This was mostly for fun.

It took Phil a while to grasp quite how Dan could possible view this as 'fun', but eventually agreed when Dan assured him that he would chose the safest and least food poisoning-inducing.

So Phil cunningly scanned through the menu and tried to find something fun but mess-free for Dab, who was sat to his right.

Beyond him, Dan also had his face buried in the menu.

" _Why does nowhere serve_ normal _food..?_ " He heard Phil mutter, and gave an unknown smile, veiled by the paper in front of him.

He supposed his friend was right, but then again, if you want to eat normal food, you should just stay at home.

Dan resolved to cook dinner later as a nice surprise. After all, he didn't want Phil over-working himself.

Dan looked up to say something but soon forgot what it was when he saw the waitress coming to take their order and straightened his back, attempting to look as composed as he could, preparing his words in the back of his throat carefully.

Afterwards, he and Phil both agreed that ordering for other people was a lot less daunting than ordering for yourself. They decided they should do this more often.

It was only after a bit of conversation with Dab that Dan noticed Phil zoning out a little bit.

Or rather, it looked like he had zoned out, but he was actually listening.

He was sure he'd heard a familiar voice from a way away – they were sat on the lower floor instead of a booth this time. There were two four-seater tables and two two-seaters down here with a few steps leading up to the main floor bit. There was also a stage with a piano on it to their right, but that was irrelevant – the voice was faint, though, and he wasn't sure whether he was just imagining it, so he quietly waited to see if he would hear it again.

He did.

"I think we should move seats," he blurted out, spontaneously, flashing a glance to Dan, who looked back up at him in a confused manner.

"I don't think we're allowed. Why, what's wrong?" Dan asked.

Phil didn't answer, but he made a good attempt to, stuttering 'I- I-' a few times before eventually giving up and fluttering his eyes around the room.

"Phil?" Dan breathed, watching him closely, as he heard him start to murmur something under his breath, "Pal? Really, what's up?"

"Uh- Nothing, nothing, just…" and here Phil paused for a second to give a nervous laugh and fold his hands on the tabletop, "Just… thought I heard someone I knew…"

"Who was it?" Dan asked.

"I don't think it was them," Phil replied, avoiding the question, "It doesn't matter; it's fine!"

Dan smiled, softly, brushing everything off,

"As long as you're OK," he said, reaching over to lightly stroke the back of his friend's hands before sitting back again. He supposed Phil was just a tad paranoid – he'd have to talk to him later, when they were alone.

"Completely fine," Phil nodded, but then his face fell as he heard footsteps approaching and he turned away to see whether his suspicions were proved true.

They were.

"Not fine- I repeat, not fine!" He swallowed, violently shaking his leg, " _Get ready for the anti-fine…"_

"Phil, you need to talk to me," Dan ordered, "Who is it?"

Phil tapped his fingertips on the table in the rhythm of an S.O.S in morse code and his gaze was fixed straight ahead as he seemed to watch someone and their friend, from the corner of his eye, walk down the steps and across the floor to take a seat at the table in the corner furthest away from them: a two-seater one in the corner.

 _"Brown hair, pony-tail,"_ Phil whispered, _"Yellow dress. Sitting with somebody else, don't know who – don't recognise them."_

"Eri-" Dan started, but was interrupted.

 _"Shhh! They'll hear you. Act inconspicuous,"_ Phil snapped, under his breath.

 _"Have they seen us?"_ Dan hissed. He knew exactly who his friend was talking about, even though his back was turned so he couldn't see the table.

" _I certainly hope not,"_ Phil almost seemed to growl.

" _Take it easy, it's going to be fine,"_ Dan assured him, then lifted his head as he saw the waitress returning.

The grey-haired woman gracefully swept the dishes off her tray and onto the table, cheerily said 'enjoy!' and disappeared again as swiftly as she had arrived.

Dan stared down to the plate in front of him and gave a sigh.

"Volcano Pasta. Thanks, Dab…"


	12. Outre, Certainly

All through the meal, Dan could see and almost _feel_ his friend get more fidgety.

It had gotten to the point where Dan suggested that Phil change seats to sit next to him so that he didn't have to look at the table where Pendleton was sitting.

That had seemed to calm him down a bit, but every now and then, he'd cast a quick flash of a glance to his right to make sure he wasn't being watched.

It wasn't that he disliked Erica – Phil didn't really dislike _anyone_ – but, rather, he was paranoid that she was constantly watching and silently judging him, and that maybe sometime it wouldn't be silent anymore.

Thankfully, Phil noted, Erica's back was turned towards him so she couldn't really see his face.

Even so, he felt like he could feel her turn and scrutinize him, her icy cold stare travelling down his spine and inspecting every inch of him.

He'd shiver from the very thought and he knew Dan picked up on that because every so often he'd be asked the question of 'are you _cold_?'

'Not at all,' he would reply.

'Because people generally shiver when they're cold,' Dan would chuckle before patting his arm and returning to conversation with Dab.

Phil felt that he should probably try to interact with the child, too, even if only for the sake of taking his mind off Erica's presence, so we wrapped his long fingers around his cream-coloured coffee mug (which was empty, but he didn't have anywhere else to put his hands) and looked across to Dab.

He didn't really speak until the child suddenly turned to him with a wide grin.

"When we get home, Uncle Phil-" he started, cheerily, "Can you help me draw?"

Phil laughed with his tongue between his teeth and gave a shrug,

"I'm not sure I could help much," he admitted, "You're better than I am, anyway."

"But I want to spend some time with you," Dab begged, "Please?"

"When did I say I wouldn't do it?" Phil asked with a chuckle, "I only said that I wouldn't be much assistance. Of course I'll… 'help'," he nodded with a smile.

He watched as Dab's face lit up again.

"Thank you!" He chirped, as though Phil had offered to do some huge task for him, like building a house or something.

Thinking about it, Phil realised that he kind of _had_ built a house for him - with Dan's help, of course.

"Yeah, lighten up a bit!" Dan agreed, "Art is good for your _soul,"_ he smirked.

Phil made an odd sound like a scoff as he wrapped his ankles around each other underneath the table.

"I don't know why you think I need to 'lighten up' so much," he hummed, "I'm completely fine. Look at me all super laid-back."

It was difficult to concur with his last statement – he hadn't really been exactly blasé today – but Dan shrugged nonetheless and chewed his lip in thought.

"Ah, you're right," he agreed, eventually, putting Phil's agitation down to nerves and hunger; he'd seemed to cheer up a bit after coffee and it was a good feeling to see and hear him candidly laugh again.

Phil had one of those contagious laughs that you had to smile back at. He wasn't particularly loud or anything, but the look on his face and the pitch of his voice was the pure expression of joy.

Dan thought maybe he was being too poetic about this all.

He was about to change the subject and tell some very entertaining jokes, but before he could open his mouth again, Dab butted in.

"Uncle Dan?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Why do you and Phil not like that woman sat-"

 _"SHH!"_ Dan hissed, _"Quieten down! You don't want her hearing you, do you?"_

"But why-"

 _"I'll tell you later; it's a bit inconvenient now."_

"We should really get going, actually," Phil coughed.

The meal had been alright and Dan had been both relived and a little bit disenchanted when he realised that 'Volcano Pasta' was actually just normal pasta with some weird orange sauce that contained an unnecessary amount of paprika. He couldn't remember what he'd chosen for Phil, but it contained bamboo and he'd only chosen it because it sounded the least suspicious of everything on the menu.

They'd paid the bill and were now just sat around, waiting for nothing in particular apart from finally getting bored enough to head home.

Dan could wholeheartedly agree with his friend on the subject of leaving; he was starting to get nervous with Erica's presence right behind him, too.

"We probably should," he agreed, taking a quick look up the stairs to see if he could see anybody checking in. He couldn't.

"Don't want to be taking up a table that could otherwise seat somebody else," he said anyway.

"Precisely!" Phil smiled, glad that they could finally leave and he could stop worrying at last.

"Shall we?" Dan offered, sliding back his chair to stand up.

Phil followed, straightening his pastel blue jacket as he did and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Come on, then," he grinned, helping Dab up and ushering him up the steps and past the reception desk. An attendant called a 'thank you! Come again soon!' over to them as they walked past. Phil didn't quite know how to reply, so he only gave a polite wave.

He didn't think they'd be coming back; they always ran into someone or other when they did and he was starting to mistrustfully believe that it wasn't a co-incidence.

But never mind about that.

The three of them pushed open the front doors and headed out into the warm air.

It was somehow warmer outside than it had been inside. Maybe the air conditioning unit had been switched on. In any case, it was boiling hot outside and being in a suit was not helping by any means.

Dab decided to skip ahead and, as the good childminders that they were, Phil and Dan both walked behind him at a slightly slower pace. They wouldn't have to walk very fast even if Dab decided to run because their legs covered more ground in one step than Dab's did in four.

And for some reason, in this very moment, with the sun shining down on them in a strangely wistful way, Phil was suddenly overcome by an odd feeling of both nostalgia and happiness.

It was only odd because nothing sentimental was happening at all, yet it only just occurred to him what was actually going on as he watched the child of whom _he_ had created with the help of his best friend, through two other beings who they had made. It was outré, certainly, but something about it all seemed just so… _normal._

It was only natural, he supposed, to take care of your family.

"Phil? Phil, why are you smiling like that?"

"Like what?" Phil asked, turning his head to Dan but not letting the expression on his face change.

"Like that; you're doing it right now," Dan laughed, "What're you so happy about?"

Phil shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Oh, I don't know…" he mused, "And that's just the thing."

Dan pulled a confused face and gazed at him in a strange manner, tilting his head to the side. He decreased speed as his friend slowed down and looked up to the sky above them.

Dan decided not to ask any questions because if Phil was content, that's all that mattered.

"This is going to be a good week, isn't it, Dan?" Phil breathed.

And Dan couldn't help but smile back.

 _"Yeah,"_ he whispered, _"It really is."_


	13. Thoughts Warring

**A/N:**

 **'Petrichor is such a bore.**

 **It's not something to ignore.**

 **Don't tell me that it's good, oh no,**

 **I can read it, too, you know?**

 **Nothing's happened yet, I fear**

 **Something might be drawing near…'**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

It was at 11 o'clock at night on that Friday - after Dab had gone to bed and Phil and Dan had rock-paper-scissor-ed for who got the sofa - that Dan started to make a list: a list, more specifically, of things that had to be done this week.

He'd been studying the to-do list left by the Howlters and had decided to create another of things that were just fun and whimsical to keep the child entertained.

He'd also decided not to let Phil help him with creating this schedule, in the hopes that he might just be able to keep it for when Phil had no other options: a backup plan, if you will, to keep from his friend stressing himself searching for ideas.

With only one light switched on over the sofa, Dan sat himself down on the rug and tapped a pencil against his lip. He'd heard Phil's plans for the week ahead and knew that sending Dab to the Pancakes' for a night was on the agenda sometime, but the only question was _when._

Monday to Tuesday seemed a good time, so they'd only have tomorrow and the day after to come up with other ideas, then on Wednesday afternoon, the Howlters would be due back. That meant that Dan and Phil would have two days to themselves followed by a whole day to make sure that the house was perfect. It seemed like a pretty great plan.

So Dan made a careful note of that before considering what activates they could all get up to tomorrow.

And that was the moment that he had a brilliant idea. Or at least, _he_ thought it was brilliant.

What if, Dan pondered, he and Phil could take Dab out shopping to Magnolia Promenade and look for a gift for Dil and Tabitha. He didn't know what they would find, but he was sure that they could find something that Dab's parents would appreciate.

Dan made a note of this, too, and decided that they could go out and do that on Sunday if the shops were open.

Then came the sudden recollection of Summer's house party that Eliza had mentioned earlier.

When was that supposed to be? Saturday?

Dan made sure to write that down, too, and also remind Phil that it was happening.

He assumed that Phil would come. Maybe he'd be less awkward if a snazzy-looking mask covered his face.

"Dan? What are you doing?" Came a tired, husky voice from across the room.

Dan dropped his graphite pencil in surprise and quickly turned his head to the left to see the silhouette of his best friend, stood in the bedroom doorway, the light shining behind him so that you couldn't even properly see his face.

"Uh- nothing?" Dan stuttered.

"…Nothing?" Phil repeated, sceptically, stepping forward.

As he got closer, Dan saw he was actually smiling, which was a good sign.

He also saw his outfit.

Dan swept the paper to the side, put down his pencil and flicked his eyes back and forth from his friend and to the sofa to signal for him to sit down.

"You're wearing _that_ shirt again," Dan noted as Phil walked over to stand beside the sofa. He didn't sit.

'That shirt' was the red, plaid one that he'd worn back in February. He'd worn it so much that he'd hardly taken it off and it had almost seemed to become a part of him.

Dan hoped that he'd washed it because otherwise, it'd surely have tear stains soaked into it still.

"Smells like dread," Phil whispered, jokingly.

Dan chuckled but then his face fell and he got to his feet to stand in front of his friend.

"What's wrong, Dan?" Phil asked, his gaze softening. He didn't have much time to react before he was pulled into a sudden and violent hug, knocking the breath right out of him.

He caught his breath again, laughed, briefly, for about 1 second and gave a sigh before wrapping his arms around his friend.

"What's this for?" He asked, confusedly, focusing his gaze on the drinks bar ahead of him.

"Nothing," Dan swallowed.

"Nothing?" Phil repeated, for the second time that night, "Just wanted to?"

"I was thinking about last time."

"Hey, you need to drop that – it's not doing you any good."

"I know, I know, I just… That was a _tough time_ in our friendship."

"It was. But it's not going to happen again: you assured me of that."

Dan nodded and cleared his throat.

"I know."

"Is this about something I've said?" Phil mumbled, nervously, fearing that maybe he'd been acting odd. He kind of _had_ , but it hadn't been _that_ bad… had it?

"No, no, of course not," Dan told him, shaking his head and relaxing again, "I'm just over-thinking things again. I'm sure everything will be just fine."

"I agree."

And they both were silent in thought. They supposed that, at the end of the day, they could only hope, and if anything _did_ happen, they could surely sort it out before it got out of hand.

Surely.


	14. Domestic Drawing

"Uncle Phil!" Came a small, cheery voice that morning, accompanied by the flutter of a sheet of paper and the clicking of a bunch of pens, "Can you help me draw?"

Phil smirked and tapped his foot on the cold kitchen tiles, thoughtfully. He had only just finished washing the dishes from dinner. Washing the dishes was one of the few things that always needed doing and he was in the habit of not letting anything go untaken care of.

"That depends," he hummed, "What are you drawing?"

"Uncle Dan said that you'd join me if we drew lions," Dab replied, and Phil heard the scraping of a chair being pulled across the floorboards.

"Alright, you got me," Phil sighed, turning around to see Dab sat at the table, paper spread out in front of him next to many coloured pens and pencils.

He dried his hands, neatly folded the tea-towel up, placed it on the counter, wandered over to the table, drew back the black chair opposite the ecstatic-looking child and sat down, his knees cracking as he did.

"Lions…" he repeated, gazing down at the single sheet of paper on the table.

He couldn't quite remember how to draw lions, but he was sure he could make it up as he went along.

As he looked up again, he found a pencil being held out in front of his face. He took it with a slight smile and chewed the end of it as he watched Dab start to doodle something, too.

A sudden movement ahead of him, in the bedroom doorway, grabbed Phil's attention and his eyes shot like lasers to it, only to see Dan stood there in a grey jumper.

Dan nodded towards him with a grin and Phil could only sigh and smile back.

He looked back to the paper but was still aware of his friend's movement from the corner of his eyes. It was then he realised he could probably draw a pretty cute lion if he put his mind to it.

Dab heard him mutter _'I can't draw…'_ to himself.

"I can't draw, either," he said, quietly, to him.

Phil's smile fell and he flicked his gaze up to make eye contact,

"What do you mean? You're brilliant," he assured Dab. He was going to add 'for your age' but decided it would be more meaningful if he left it at that, "And I'm sure you'll get even better with time," he concluded.

Dan keenly watched this interaction take place as he walked along to the breakfast bar, running a hand along the top of the sofa as he went. He was glad that Phil had stopped cleaning for once and was now actually socialising.

Dan gave a wide beam of a smile as he saw an almost-perfect sketch of Lion on the paper. Of course it was the only way Phil could draw lions.

It was quite adorable, actually.

Dan flicked on the tea machine and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, tapping his fingers on the porcelain as he waited. He could sense that Phil would be annoyed that – after just finishing the washing up – he'd have to do it again.

"Look!" He heard a cheery call as Dab held up his drawing to show Phil.

"Oh- I- that's _very_ good," Phil chuckled before swallowing. Dan could tell he was struggling to interact properly and be a good baby-sitter, but he was at least trying his best.

"Look, Uncle Dan!" Dab rhapsodised, holding up his drawing like Simba.

" _Woah,_ great job!" Dan encouraged him, giving a thumbs up.

He was sure he could hear Phil quietly singing the beginning of _The Circle of Life_ under his breath.

He didn't know the actual words, of course, but he was able to create some strange noises that vaguely resembled the tune.

Dan noted that the tea machine had finished already and he'd been standing, idly, for a good minute, so he hurried to make his drink before he started to look even more lost.

He let the tea dribble into the mug before adding a splash of milk, stirring and picking up the cup again, the hot steam warming his face as he took a long, thoughtful sip.

He then dribbled the liquid back into the cup because it was unreasonably hot and his mouth was now sizzling like he'd just gargled magma.

Maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration, but that's what it felt like to him.

"I'm gonna' draw a snail!" He heard Dab cheer, followed by the scratching of a pencil and Phil's confused response of 'why a _snail_?'

Phil did not get an answer.

Dan leaned his elbows on the bar and stared out of the window on the other side of the room. It was very warm today and he would have opened the windows, except they weren't the type of windows that opened and so he just had to fry like an ant under a microscope.

A very tall, curly-haired, noodle-like ant.

"Uncle Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you draw a snail?"

"Why do you want me to do that?"

"So mine has a friend."

"Uh… Alright, I suppose."

Dan was entertained, greatly, by his friend's conversation, and looked to the table from the corner of his eyes. He thought he should really remind Phil of Summer's party tomorrow – they'd need time to figure out outfits and neither of them had a mask to wear; masks are essential to a masquerade.

He'd let Phil relax for a bit first, though. He seemed to be content enough with Dab and the snail drawings, so far.

It was getting to be a good day.

"Does it have a name?" Dan heard Dab enquire.

"Uh… Susan Three!" Phil replied.

Of course the snail was called Susan.

"Mine's called Sally: Sally the snail," Dab said, matter-of-factly, "I think Sally and Susan are snail sisters."

Dan watched as Phil laughed with his tongue between his teeth and laid down the pencil on the table, next to the paper.

" _They're snisters…"_ Dan heard him snigger.

"They look very different, though. You wouldn't be able to tell they were sisters."

"Maybe they're snisters-in-law," Phil chuckled. It seemed that Dab didn't get his joke.

"What does that mean?" Dab asked.

"It means that Sally is Susan's snail husband's snister," Phil replied, holding back another round of laughter. He did not know why he found this so strangely entertaining.

"Oh, I see…" Dab mused, thoughtfully, before Phil started his odd, snort-wheeze of a laugh again.

He sounded much like a pug

"I'm sn-aughing so hard right now."

That pun was a stretch.

"Do you need some snater?" Dan asked, politely.

"What's snater?"

"Snail water."

"That's so snadistic-" (apparently that was supposed to be 'sadistic') "-There are snails watching!"

"It's water that snails drink."

"Sn-annerbalism!" Phil gasped, stretching to make a play on the word cannibalism, "I will report you to the sn-authorities!"

"I won't give up without a sn-ight!" Dan proclaimed with a wide grin.

Dab was extremely confused by this whole exchange and decided to just carry on drawing, entering his own, pun-free world of perfectly normal snails that abided by our own moral standards.


	15. It's No Fun

So far, Saturday had been a success.

Drawing had taken up most of their afternoon – Dan and Dab's, at least: Phil had stopped and decided to do his own thing after a while. Dan didn't know what he was doing, exactly, but it was safe to assume he was cleaning.

It was only that night that the tranquillity ended for a time.

 _"You never told me why you and Uncle Phil don't like that woman who was in Chez Llama."_

They were the words that Dan heard come from Dab's mouth, causing his smile to fall at last and a frown appear on his face.

"It's complicated, really," Dan coughed.

He'd just finished tucking the child into bed and was about to leave the room. In fact, he had his hand on the light switch already, but he had to turn back around again to answer Dab's question.

He could hear the sounds of Phil clearing away numerous sheets of paper suddenly stop in the other room as he awaited some sort of elaboration on 'It's complicated'.

"Back a few years ago…" Dan started again, "Your dad tried to make friends with Erica Pendleton, but she was… a bit mean to him-"

 _"Stop sugarcoating it!"_ Phil snapped from the other room.

Dan cleared his throat,

"She's just generally an awful person – inherently evil," he corrected himself, "And to add to that, back in February when you were younger, she tried to sneak into your room and kidnap you. We tried not to tell you about it, but I suppose the truth had to come out some day."

Dab stared up at him with a mix of terror and surprise on his face.

"Why did she want to take me?" He asked, quietly.

"I don't know, kid. I wasn't there, but Uncle Phil managed to stop her doing anything to you. Don't worry – we're going to keep you very safe," Dan assured him.

"Thank you, Uncle Dan," Dab whispered and closed his eyes as he started to drift off to sleep, "Goodnight."

"Night," Dan smiled before flicking off the light and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Phil gazed up at him, tiredly, as he shuffled a stack of papers in his hands before looking back down, tapping them on the table to neaten them and setting them on the surface.

 _"You didn't have to tell him that last bit,"_ Phil breathed. He sounded a tad irritated, too.

"How long were you planning to keep it hush-hush?" Dan retorted, yet still quietly and not too seriously, and he stood still parallel to the table, "He has a right to know."

Phil looked back up to him and stood up straight, rubbing the back of his neck with his long fingers.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Something wrong?" Dan asked, softly, moving over to stand beside him.

"I'm fine," Phil coughed, but still refused a hug of comfort.

"You'll be telling him all about the fight next thing you know," he continued, under his breath, as he gently pushed his friend away, and Dan's arms dropped, limply, to his sides.

"I… I thought we'd forgotten about that," Dan swallowed and watched Phil pore over his mind to think of some way to justify his prior statement.

"I didn't mean it like what you think I meant it like," he muttered, eventually, "I'm sorry. It's OK. You can tell him what he needs to know if he asks," and he gave a wan smile for a few seconds.

"Are you tired?" Dan asked.

"Can you tell?" Phil replied with a scoff, and he slowly blinked once.

Dan noted the circles under his eyes and the even more ashen than usual tone to his skin and decided that his friend definitely needed some sleep.

"It's Summer's masquerade party tomorrow."

"I forgot," Phil rasped, "I don't think I'll be going."

"Why not?" Dan asked, kindly, "I mean, it's OK if you don't want to go, but… Is it something against Summer?"

Phil averted his line of sight, "You know how I am about social things…" he said as he took his glasses off to rub his eyes.

"If you're not going, then I won't, either," Dan smiled, and reached to place a hand on Phil's back, but his friend moved away, sharply, before he could.

"Hey, don't let me spoil your fun," Phil frowned, "If you want to go, you go without me. I'm perfectly fine here alone."

Dan shook his head. He didn't much want to leave him again.

Maybe it was because he wanted to spend time together, but Dan felt that the primary reason he wanted to stay home was that he didn't trust Phil with Dab and the housework alone.

Maybe he just didn't trust him alone at all.

"I don't really want to go, either," Dan smiled, "Don't you worry about it."

Phil shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, giving a yawn and staring down at the floorboards as he wandered over to the other side of the room, his shoulder blades showing up outside his shirt.

"Get some sleep, Philly," Dan whispered to him.

"What did you _think_ I was doing?"


	16. He's Like The Sun

Masquerade parties weren't a very common thing to Dan Howell, but after a few Google searches, he figured out what he was supposed to do and what to wear.

It was a masked ball – that much was obvious, you could gather that from solely the name – so a ballroom dance in a fancy costume was all that was really needed to know.

Dan had decided that he didn't want to stand out all that much, so he opted for a black waistcoat over a white shirt. Not being one to really dance (he didn't particularly _know_ how to ballroom dance, never mind _want_ to), he preferred to blend into the shadows in the background instead.

He knew how to act like he could dance; he'd learned that much from February when he'd pulled Phil to his feet to waltz around to some energetic swing, but the difference was that swing didn't really have moves and Phil wouldn't judge if he got something wrong. Doing the waltz with a complete stranger was something else entirely.

What if he unintentionally ended up dancing with Erica or Summer? Erica would surely smack him upside the head if he got a step wrong and Summer would probably recognise his voice and kick him out of the house if they paired up.

Summer _really_ didn't like Dan.

Another thing that Dan needed for the party was, of course, a mask.

He'd ventured down to Magnolia Promenade – leaving Phil alone with Dab at home (with his permission, of course) – to have a search around the shops and see if he could find anything.

To his surprise, when he arrived, he had found a fancy dress shop in Magnolia Promenade, and sure enough, that shop had had a very wide selection of masquerade masks.

He'd been debating whether to buy one for Phil in case he changed his mind and decided to come along, but he remembered how adamant his friend had been about staying at home and opted out of it.

He chose himself something that matched his aesthetic: a black, Venetian mask with the top centre being decorated with a gold fleur-de-lis shape. More gold, elaborate decorations went around the rim: swirls and all.

None of these decorations were what interested Dan, of course, but it was the fact that it was the one that least stood out from the whole, entire shelf.

Perfect for someone like himself who blurred into the background like a brown spider in a plant pot full of soil.

Which is a strange analogy, but it works to some extent.

As Dan turned to walk away, fiddling with the Venetian mask in his hands, he noticed a familiar figure browsing the shelves, not far from him.

The said figure was, in fact, his neighbour: Eliza Pancakes.

Dan supposed that it was the day of the party and she, too, was getting in her last-minute shopping and outfit-organising whilst she still had time.

Dan also supposed that it wouldn't hurt to say hello, either, so he hid the mask behind his back and approached her.

"Hey there!" He said, cheerily. He didn't mind Eliza – she was actually very nice once you got to know her.

Eliza looked a slight bit taken-aback at first when she saw who had greeted her, but then looked up to Dan and gave a smile.

"Hi!" She grinned, "Fancy running into you here!"

"Yeah, fancy," Dan sniggered, "Just looking for something to wear to the party. I'm assuming that's why you're here, too?"

"You got that right," Eliza nodded, "Have you found anything?"

"I have, indeed."

"What have you found?"

"Well, if I told you, that'd be no fun, would it?" Dan reasoned, "Isn't the joy of a masquerade not knowing who you're looking at?"

"I don't think that a mask is going to disguise you that much, but I guess you're right," Eliza laughed, "Is Phil coming, too?"

Dan shook his head and sighed, tapping his foot on the floor.

"Nah, I think he just wants to stay home to look after Dab and make sure everything's OK in the house," he said, "I don't know if something's up with him, but he just seems a bit down – or at least he did yesterday when I was talking to him."  
Eliza's face fell at this last statement,

"I hope he's OK, then," she swallowed, "Hopefully he'll cheer up soon, right?"

"Right," Dan smiled, "I'm sure he will. Phil's never down for long: he's like the sun, that guy."


	17. Tête-à-tête

"Hey, Phil!" Dan called as he swung open the door to Potter's Splay with a wide grin on his face and a carrier bag in his hand. He lifted his gaze as Phil – who was chewing a pencil and reading something on the breakfast bar – looked up to him. Dan smiled before bending down to untie his shoelaces, "How's my best mate today, then?" He asked.

"I'm _fine_ ," Phil swallowed, "You've asked me this question three times today – were you expecting a better response?"

"I was only making sure," Dan frowned, standing up again, putting the bag down on the floor and slipping his hands in his pockets, wandering over to the kitchen. He got his smile back again as he noticed what his friend was reading, "Oh, you found that list I was making. I thought it might give you some ideas on what we could do, if you didn't have anything planned already."

Phil squinted down at the paper in an odd manner before staring to Dan from the corner of his eyes,

"I figured that much. And this is your contribution? You go off gallivanting to Magnolia Promenade to shop and leave me at home to do everything myself and don't even bother to give me some list you've made up that might actually help me. I need a hand from time to time, you know?" He huffed. He then adjusted his line of sight to the shoes and bag on the floor, "And I'm hoping you're not planning to leave those there, too."

Dan shook his head and went to stroke Phil's shoulder,

"Don't worry about it, I'm going to tidy up," he assured him, "Sorry I went out without giving you any help first, but I really needed to find something for the party tonight-"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that…"

"Are you sure you'll be OK on your own?"

"Now I've found this list I sure will."

"I said I was sorry…"

Phil sighed,

"It's OK," he sniggered, "I'm going to be absolutely A-OK."

Dan smiled to him before bounding away back to the door to retrieve the shopping bag,

"You wouldn't believe what I found, though!" He chirped, "They had a whole isle of them in this one shop over there, it was great! I picked the least extravagant one so I could easily just blend into the background."

"If you don't want to dance, why on Earth are you going?" Phil asked, confusedly, tipping his head to the side.

"I want to see what it's like. Besides, I'll be able to find out which house is Summer's; I've always wondered where she lived," Dan explained, pulling out the mask and holding it in his fingertips, "I also kinda' just want to see all of the masks and costumes – and you're _sure_ you don't want to come with me?"

Phil only rolled his eyes with a scoff, taking the pencil out of his mouth and laying it on the breakfast bar.

"Show me what you've found, then," he said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Dan tossed the mask over to him and Phil caught it, neatly (which was surprising, as he is a very clumsy person who has a habit of dropping everything) before turning it over in his hands.

"Fancy," he observed.

"Fits, too, so that's a plus," Dan nodded.

"What were you going to do if it didn't fit?"

"I don't know – stick it on a chopstick and turn it into one of those you just hold up instead?"

"Eh, you'd get arm ache after five minutes," Phil chuckled, "Where'd you find it, then?"  
"Oh, there was a fancy dress shop in Magnolia Promenade that had loads. Ran into Eliza there, too, which was kinda' weird."

Phil's face fell at that but he looked less annoyed and more unimpressed.

"I don't mind Eliza but she's a tad weird still," he hummed, "But I suppose she's OK."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dan enquired, sounding slightly concerned.

"I might just go out for some fresh air," Phil shrugged, "You OK on your own?"

"Of course!" Dan concurred, "You probably need it, too."


	18. Have We Met?

**A/N: Hey! I suggest that, for this chapter, if you hear the mention of a type of mask (like Bauta or whatever) you should probably look it up to get the idea of what it looks like. A quick Google Image search will be of great help to you in picturing this strange scene and maybe you'll learn a bit about masquerade masks in the process, who knows?  
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this kinda' long chapter to make up for the short length of the last two and that you can picture all the fancy costumes in your mind cause they're very fancy and I feel like otherwise, you'd be missing out.  
See you very soon!  
-Whisker**

* * *

Dan had set off early to Summer's party, not wanting to carry on his record of being late for everything, and so allowed himself enough time to figure out which house was hers.

From following the information Eliza had given him earlier when he had met her in the shop, he soon figured out that the Holiday household was called 'Garden Essence' and was built on the plot of land right opposite Chez Llama in Foundry Cove.

Dan had even written down a map for himself with the names of the neighbourhoods so that he knew exactly where everything was.

Knowing that Summer and her housemates' home was opposite a restaurant that he frequented put Dan slightly on edge, realising that Holiday could be watching him every time he walked past, but he swept these paranoid worries aside as he had arrived and resolved to enjoy himself.

Right now, he was stood in the kitchen, watching people in various fancy clothes stream in through the door.

There was a good selection of food set out on the long bar and Dan had spent most of his time so far picking at the crisps, salted peanuts and tiny little sausages on sticks.

He'd decided to see how many people he could recognise out of the crowd but was left, most of the time, wondering whether he'd even met half of everyone there.

One person of whom he could definitely recognise, though, was Summer herself. She hadn't gone to much effort to look anonymous, as she was only wearing a red mask that covered her eyes – a bit like Dan's – decorated on one side with a rose and some sparkly gold leaves that complimented the candy-red gown she was dressed in.

All of the furniture in the room (the green sofa, beige armchair, the cream side table and houseplant along with a tiny, white coffee table) had been pushed to the side to make room for the dancing that would soon take place. In fact, Summer looked as if she and her housemate (Dan had heard the name Liberty and assumed that that was her name; he seemed to be right), were discussing who looked best to dance with already.

Dan had read a bit about ballroom etiquette and he very much hoped that Summer and all the guests knew how to ask for a dance because he wasn't about to be dragged out of the kitchen when he had no idea how to lead.

Of course, he'd read about how to dance, too, but most of it looked too complicated and he'd need a partner to practice with, anyway, and he hadn't wanted to bother Phil to help him out.

After all, it didn't seem that Phil had as much interest in ballroom as he did in swing.

So hopefully nobody would approach him.

Maybe he could just frown and pretend that he'd been given the responsibility of tending the kitchen, pouring out wine and all that.

There was a small table to Dan's left, in front of the Victorian-style bay windows, with four chairs around it, so he slunk away down there as he heard Liberty clap her hands, loudly, with a cough and waited for the room to quieten down.

 _"Will you be my partner, Travis?"_ Dan heard Summer whisper to a blonde man in a blue suit who was wearing an aqua and silver baroque mask and who nodded, awkwardly, in what seemed like reluctant agreement.

Dan listened as Liberty explained to the room how to politely ask someone to be your partner.

Only men were originally supposed to ask for a dance, but here in the 21st century, women were permitted to ask, too, and this was the take that Liberty decided on for this night.

So Liberty went on to explain to her audience that even though, in early times, you weren't supposed to dance with someone you hadn't been introduced to, tonight you could ask whoever you wanted because it seemed a good way to make new acquaintances.

This was what grabbed Dan's attention and put him on edge a little bit, knowing that anybody in this room would surely pick up on the fact that he wasn't dancing with anybody sooner or later.

He almost wanted somebody to come up and teach him.

It was after the first song that Dan noticed one particular gentleman who had arrived at the same time as Eliza, but he definitely wasn't Bob.

Dan recognised Eliza, who was wearing a light green half mask with sparkly, silver embellishments, but had no idea who this guy with her was.

He was dressed in an ebony jacket with even darker decorations embroidered into it. There was an extravagant fleur-de-lis on each arm and four bands at the bottom of the sleeves. The front of it pattered with swirl-type motifs; 'swooshes', if you will – 7 on each side – where the hooks were sewn on to fasten it.

It had one jade-coloured strip around the rim at the bottom and matched the three-pointed hat on the man's head.

The mask he wore was fancy, too: it was made mostly of feathers, the majority black, of course, with orangey gold ones around the eye-holes. The feathers reached down past the cheekbones and only left one gap for the mouth, the sides of the face completely covered. The most noticeable thing about this mask, though, were the two horns at the sides, above the yellow feathers, that curled up like addax antlers (look it up).

This one guy was probably the best-dressed in the room, besides one other person who looked like he had a lot of money because he'd splashed out on a cape and a fancy Bauta mask, too, of which one side was black and the other a pearlescent white.

Dan stood up and brushed himself down, pulling his white gloves further down his wrists.

He thought that maybe he should approach Eliza for a dance so that he wasn't idle; at least he knew Eliza and surely she wouldn't judge him if he got a step wrong.

The only problem was the fact that Dan knew he'd have to lead.

He swallowed, nervously, and gazed about the room once more, trying to detect familiar faces.

He was pretty sure that he recognised a woman from the Goth family, plainly from the clothes she was wearing, but he couldn't be one hundred per-cent certain. He decided to steer clear of her anyway because he knew the Goths to be quite cold in personality.

As he tried to make deliberate eye contact with Eliza, Dan noticed that the fellow he'd spotted earlier was looking at him with sort of a thoughtful air.

Dan licked his dry lips and averted his line of sight to the food in front of him, inspecting the punch bowl and the glasses set about around it. He was contemplating getting a drink for himself but decided to stop procrastinating and approach Eliza first.

As he stared up again, he saw that the guy with her had disappeared.

Dan flickered his eyes about, searching for him, and eventually found him at the end of the bar with his hands in his pockets.

They made eye contact and the man walked up with a friendly smile.

"Hanging about, are you?" He asked in a deep voice that almost croaked when he spoke.

Dan gave a shy laugh and nodded,

"Just… sitting this one out," he said.

"You don't know how to dance, do you?" The guy purred with a teasing tone.

"You got me…" Dan sighed, forgetting to act formally for a second.

The gentleman chewed his lip in thought and flashed a glance over his shoulder to the back door.

"Here, listen; if we step outside, out of the way, I might be able to teach you the basics," he offered.

"You'd do that?" Dan exclaimed in surprise.

"Of course I would."

"Wow, thanks, mate – I was hoping someone would offer to give me a hand," he sniggered.

"It's OK," the man said with a grin, "Come on, there's plenty of space in the garden and the windows are open so we'll still be able to hear the music."

So Dan followed his new acquaintance down the hall and out into the open air.


	19. They Dance Alone

There were three large planters in the corner of the garden and a table near the door, but down on the lawn at the very end of the house, there was a wide space that would prove plenty of room for a dance lesson.

The stars were out, as it was 9:30 PM already, and the air was slightly chilly, but it was still just about light enough to see where you put your feet.

Dan's well-dressed tutor had left the back door slightly ajar to allow the music to come through slightly louder and now he led Dan down the steps from the porch and onto the grass.

"Are you sure Summer and the others won't mind us creeping into their garden?" Dan inquired as he stood in the space on the lawn.

"Oh, they'll be fine with it," the man with him nodded, "Besides, if they ever host garden parties people would be walking all over the grass anyway."  
Dan gave a short laugh,

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, before we start, I feel like we should introduce ourselves," he said, clearing his throat, "I'm Dan – what should I call you?"

The guy grinned,

"If I told you my name, that'd take away the fun of the anonymity, now, wouldn't it?" He hummed, "But let's see… you can call me… Michael! Michael's a good name. It's not mine, but it's good."

"Nice to meet you, then, Michael," Dan chuckled, holding out his hand.

"You, too, Dan," Michael nodded, shaking his hand, "Now… should we? The song's just about finished so it's a great time to start."

Dan enthusiastically agreed.

"Right, I think I know how to stand," he stated, "It's my right hand to your left, isn't it?"

Michael nodded again and put his hand to Dan's, putting his other on his back.

"Now you put your left hand on my shoulder and we'll start," he smiled, "If you were leading, we'd be the other way around, and you'll be leading all the dances tonight, I presume, so just remember that, OK?"

"Alright," Dan swallowed.

"Now just follow my feet and we'll try and work on a pattern. Starting with a box step, put your feet together first – yep, that's right – now your left foot back, my left will go forward-"

Dan followed Michael's instructions to a T, learning each step in turn until he got the rhythm down in his mind: together, left forward, right to the right and forward, together, right back, left to the left and back, together and repeat.

He counted '1-2-3, 4-5-6' in his head along with the steps and he and his teacher repeated the move a good few times in silence.

The song playing quietly and drifting out of the house was the instrumental to Skyfall by Adele and so as the music picked up pace a little bit, Michael taught him how to rotate on the 4th step so that every time, they'd turn a little to the right.

"So, Dan… Why are you here if you didn't know how to dance?" Michael asked as they danced along at a steady pace.

Dan had half been expecting this question so he wasn't surprised in the slightest when it came up. He'd come up with a better answer than the one he told Phil, too.

"It's more that I'm not confident enough," he replied, "Though I hoped that somebody would come along and teach me a thing or two anyway. Guess you're that somebody."

"Interesting. I'm not really a dancer myself, either, I'll admit," Michael purred, "I just like people-watching, really."

"You seem like the kind of guy," Dan admitted, "Mr Mysterious."

Michael laughed a short, deep laugh and was quiet for a bit.

"Shall we try a twirl?" He suggested, and Dan quickly concurred. He knew how to twirl, at least, from when he'd danced swing with Phil earlier that year, of course, so he knew just what to do.

"You learn quickly," Michael noted, sounding impressed, "Do you dance often on your own?"

"I have once or twice with my best friend," Dan told him, "You remind me of him, actually."

"Do I?" Michael laughed, "I hope he has _dashing good looks."_

Dan returned the laugh but didn't really comment as he heard the song drawing to a close.

"Should we end with a dip?" He asked as they twirled again.

"Good idea – very dramatic," Michael whispered, "Have you done a dip before?"

Dan nodded, silently, and listened out for the climax, following his acquaintance's cues to hang on with one arm and bend his knees as Michael put a hand on his back and one around him as he dipped in time to the song's climax right at the end.

And everything was timed perfectly.

Dan got to stare up at the sparkling stars for a few seconds before he was pulled back up again.

Michael let go of him and took a little bow before standing straight and brushing himself down.

"Thank you," he smiled, courteously.

"I should be thanking you," Dan answered, shaking his hand.

"It's been fun. We should head back inside now, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah, we really should; it's pretty cold out here."

And they both bounded back up the steps and into the warmth of Summer's house. As they looked around the room, they saw everyone grinning and thanking their partners for a great dance and, as the next song started up, Dan saw Summer make eye contact with him.

"There's your next partner, then," Michael whispered, patting Dan on the back, "Go on – you can do it!"

Dan straightened his waistcoat, gave a salute and slowly wandered over to Summer.

"Can I have this dance?" He asked, remembering his manners.

"Of course!" Summer agreed. It seemed she knew who he was but didn't really mind dancing with him.

And so the next song started and they both joined hands.

"Is Phil here?" Summer asked.

"He wanted to stay home and look after Dab," Dan stated, not answering her question straight, "Maybe you'll run into him sometime, who knows?"


	20. Of Course He'd Known

Phil yawned and swirled the last dregs of tea around in his cup.

He'd been idly sitting around for over an hour now and was patiently awaiting his friend's return home.

The room was dark, lit only by the floor lamp beside the window, but cosy and warm, especially when there was no sound from anywhere.

Yes, everything was perfectly silent in Potter's Splay, save from the occasional yawn or swallowing of a mouthful of tea.

Phil took his glasses off to clean them with the end of his gold-coloured shirt and set the empty mug down on the coffee table in front of him. He could hear the sound of someone coming up the garden pathway so he slipped his glasses back on and sat back on the sofa, putting his arms behind his head.

As he heard a key turning in the lock, he closed his eyes and gave a sigh. Sounded like Dan was back at long last.

About time, too – he'd been out ages.

The door creaked open and Phil opened one eye to gaze up to his housemate, illuminated by the dim light.

"You left early," Dan whispered, closing the door behind him and twirling his mask around on his finger through the eyehole.

Phil raised an eyebrow, confusedly.

"Pardon?" He swallowed.

Dan laughed, shortly, and tossed the mask out of his hand, about to eye level, before it fell down and he caught it in his hand.

"I knew it was you, Mister," he scoffed, slipping his shoes off with his heels and wandering over to toss the mask down on the coffee table, "You sly clown, Phil…"

"I had you for a while, though, didn't I?" He sniggered, "You fell right for it."

Dan shrugged his shoulders and knelt down on the sofa, shuffling closer to his friend.

"For a while I did," he said, "Surprised I didn't recognise you sooner, actually, but you did a great job. You even changed your voice, which was impressive."

"When did you figure?" Phil asked, putting his feet up on the table and chewing his lip, thoughtfully.

"It was when we did the dip at the end," Dan replied, flicking his eyes up to him for a split second before returning to his sentence, "Don't think I didn't notice you shaking."

"What?"

Dan smiled,

"Not really," he hummed, "I'd recognise the feel of your hands anywhere."

"Is it distinct?"

"Spider-like," Dan nodded, "And always very cold."

Phil gave a chuckle and folded his arms in front of him.

"Clever you," he grinned.

"I didn't know you could dance, though."

"I did my research."

"Why did you even want to do it? What could you possibly achieve from this?" Dan breathed.

Phil's smile fell and he shrugged,

"Thought it'd be fun, I guess," he answered, "Got a problem?"

"Of course not," Dan told him, gently, "And it _was_ fun, thanks," and he reached up to hug his friend.

Phil wrapped his arms around and softly sighed again, the whole house silent.

"Where's Dab?" Dan enquired, under his breath, looking to the child's bedroom door from the corner of his eye.

"Dropped him off at the Pancakes' before I left," Phil replied.

"But Eliza was at the party?"

"Bob wasn't. He was at home with Evan so I'm sure Dab will be just fine with them."

"You really trust Eliza and Bob with looking after him?"

"They've looked after Evan well enough, haven't they? Besides, we've snooped in on their household, they're not bad people, even if a little eccentric. You really trusted _me_ to look after Dab?"

"I suppose you're right," Dan admitted with another short laugh, slowly releasing his hold, "I definitely trust you to take care of him, too, though."

"That's good," Phil said with a melancholy air, "Because I certainly don't."  
Dan tipped his head to the side, bit the inside of his mouth and contemplated this statement in his mind. Maybe he wasn't so sure about leaving Phil with the kid unattended, either.

But it was OK because he wouldn't be leaving anyway. Or at least he hoped he wouldn't.

So he assured Phil that everything would be absolutely fine. Like he'd said on Friday: _'This is going to be a good week, isn't it, Dan?'_

And Dan was determined to make sure that it really was, despite how many encounters with Summer they might have, whether they run into Erica or not, no matter if Eliza starts being weird and no matter if Phil doubts himself, or anything in-between.


	21. Pots and Pans

Daniel Howell wiped the sleep from his eyes.

It was early in the morning and only he had only just awoken from a weird dream about YouTubers and roller coasters and _swing boats._

Phil was still fast asleep in bed, probably curled up under a thick duvet with his head buried in cushions – so Dan had taken it upon himself to do something nice to surprise him when he woke up.

So a cooked breakfast seemed like a good idea. After all, Phil would always get pretty angry in the mornings without food and a full English would hopefully put him in good spirits for a while.

Dan really hoped he hadn't woken Phil from the clatter of pots and pans as he searched the cupboards. He was also currently deciding what else he could do for his housemate today to help him relax.

There was always the spa, he supposed, and it was quite a nice walk up to it so _that_ might not be a bad idea.

After setting the oven timer, laying out two plates ready and switching the tea machine on, Dan made his way across the room to the bedroom door.

It wasn't completely closed, so he gently pushed it open a crack and peered in.

He saw his friend curled up with the dark green duvet pulled up so far that it covered everything under his eyes. There was no sound except the occasional gentle sigh, muffled by the bed sheets.

Dan gave a soft smile and closed the door again, heading over to the sofa to fold up the blanket and place it down, neatly, on the armchair beside him.

Everything was very tranquil and Dan couldn't help but think back to last night at the dance.

Phil sure had been clever to fool him for that long.

Dan smiled to himself and straightened out his fleece pyjama trousers as he walked back to the kitchen.

Maybe Phil felt the need to go anonymously so that Dan wouldn't point him out to Summer – Phil certainly seemed determined not to dance with her. So determined, in fact, that he left soon after his and Dan's dance lesson.

What did he have against Summer so much, anyway? Was it her exasperating attempts to flirt with him?

Because that was certainly the reason Dan didn't like her much. He'd always been very protective of Phil. All his old friends always ended up liking someone else better than him and he was determined to keep the best friend he'd had for almost 9 years.

And he definitely wasn't going to lose him to some 'virtual' girl who more-or-less tried to enchant anyone who she liked the look of.

It wasn't that she was a bad person, only a little bit annoying.

She seemed persistent about Phil, though. Maybe it was his accent.

It's always about the accent.

Dan frowned and tapped his fingers on the breakfast bar, his back hunched as he awaited the ring of the oven timer or the click of the tea machine finishing.

But instead, he heard the creak of the bedroom door.

"Philly!" He called, cheerily, to his sleepy-eyed companion, "Good morning! Sleep well?"

"As well as ever…" Phil yawned back, " _Do I smell bacon?"_

"I thought I'd cook us both breakfast!" Dan grinned.

"I'm not really that hungry," Phil quietly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning on the doorframe.

"You're not?" Dan hummed, slightly surprised, "Who are you kidding? You're always hungry."

"Not today, Dan," Phil replied, shaking his head, "All the more for you, though, right?"

Dan smiled back but averted his eyes to pour the tea instead. It was a shame they didn't have any crumpets, really; that would have made them feel more at home.

"I was thinking of ways we could relax more," Dan said, "Now that Dab's at the Pancakes' until tomorrow, you know?"

"Oh, really?" Phil breathed - to himself, it seemed, "What were you thinking of doing?"

"The spa sounded nice," Dan replied, strolling over to hand him a mug of tea, "Don't you think? Just a calming, peaceful spa day?"

"It's a small world, Dan-" Phil huffed, "Wherever we go, it's almost certain that we'll run into someone or other."

"Is that really a bad thing?" Dan asked, "I mean, wasn't one of our goals this week to fix up our repute? We can't do that by avoiding everyone."

Phil gave a sigh and shrugged his shoulders,

"I suppose you're right," he admitted, "And I could do with the fresh air, I guess… the spa sounds nice, thanks, Dan."

Dan grinned and patted his shoulder, reassuringly,

"I promise it'll be fine," he avowed, "I think we just both need to lighten up, don't you?"

Phil nodded and smiled at last.

He certainly agreed. What was he so worried about, really? Running into Erica? And what would that possibly do to harm him?

He supposed that seeing Summer or Erica would probably help him, actually. His reputation wouldn't mend itself if he acted like he didn't want to do anything to make ends meet.

For Summer, he was sure it wouldn't be too hard, but in Erica's case, it might be a bit more difficult to make friends. After all, Erica had the 'evil' trait – she definitely wouldn't just accept an apology and forgive and forget as quickly as most people.

However, Phil's naturally polite and courteous British nature could surely melt at least _some_ of the ice that surrounded Miss Pendleton's cold heart…. Couldn't it?

He supposed he'd just have to wait to find out, but right now, he focused his attention on perking up and having a light-hearted conversation with Dan over breakfast.

After all, he didn't want to sacrifice his friendship just for the sake of not going outside.

* * *

Phil always liked the spa. No matter how out-of-place he sometimes felt, the smell of the eucalyptus drifting around the air was so calming that he forgot all about being in a social situation.

He was currently looking forward to being surrounded by the tranquil warmth, still and smells that accompanied the Willow Creek Spa, but before that, he had to walk to it.

He didn't much mind the walk, really – he needed the fresh air, the slight chill woke him up and he still had Dan beside him to talk to – but it was who he saw on this walk that put him more on edge.

Of course, he'd made his decision to fix his standing, so he felt that he should say hello.

He went over – with Dan's permission – whilst Dan himself carried on down the road.

"Hey, Summer!"


	22. Coffee Plans

**A/N: I apologise for the dullness of this chapter, but I kept getting distracted by drawing and looking at maps of Willow Creek. Speaking of maps, I came across a slight issue in that there don't seem to be any bridges over the river separating Pendula View from the rest of Willow Creek, so there isn't really any path from Dil's house to the spa, but let's all pretend that there is, for the sake of convenience and my sanity.  
Enjoy this chapter, of which is more-or-less just one large conversation.  
-Whisker**

* * *

Summer Holiday looked ecstatic to see her old 'friend' again. She didn't know, of course, that she had seen him only last night, and assumed that the last time they'd met had been in the park on Thursday.

She certainly showed that she was excited, too, and her face seemed to light up as she realised that Phil was voluntarily addressing her.

She saw her chance, as Dan walked away, and bounded over, gracefully.

"Philly!" She chirped, "How great to see you! How have you been?"

Phil cringed slightly at being referred to by his nickname – that he only really let Dan call him by – but replied nonchalantly, nonetheless.

"Oh, I'm fine," he nodded, calmly, "How about you?"

"I've never been better! Shame you didn't come to the party last night, it was great fun…" Summer mused, obviously implying that she noticed his 'absence'.

"Didn't you see me?" Phil sniggered, "I was there all right."

Summer looked, surprised, up at him and gave a brief laugh,

"Huh… I didn't recognise you… I thought you would've been hard to miss, what with your distinctive looks…"

"Distinctive?" Phil mumbled, confused, but then realised that he'd probably only pushed Summer to name all of her favourite physical attributes of him. She'd probably written a list.

So before Holiday could go on, Phil cut her off,

"Well, I wore something I probably wouldn't usually wear, so I don't blame you for not recognising me…" he hummed, thoughtfully.

"What did you wear, then?" Summer asked.

Phil laughed and shrugged,

"You'll have to figure it out yourself," he replied, "Where's the fun, otherwise?"

"You're right," Summer agreed, "So… where are you headed this morning?"

"Oh, I was just going to the spa with Dan to relax. How about you?" Phil asked, trying to tear away from the conversation quickly so he could catch up with his friend.

"I was just walking, really. Say, could I walk with you?"

Phil swallowed and gave a sigh, but still reluctantly consented.

"Thanks!" Summer grinned as they started walking down the road again, "You know, some time, we should go out for coffee somewhere."

This sentence struck an unexplainable sense of dread into Phil's very soul. He had no idea how to respond to that.

 _What was he supposed to say to that?_

He didn't want to seem cold and deny her straight out, but he also really, really, didn't like the idea of going out for coffee, either.

He lifted his gaze to the clouds before averting his eyes to the spa not so far away from them.

"I'm… not too sure about that. I'm pretty busy this week and I'm heading home soon enough," he explained, "But maybe, instead of just us, we could invite Eliza along, too, and have it like just a friendly night out."

Summer seemed to think this was still a good idea, and agreed quite quickly. She must've been really desperate. Then again, she'd probably do just about anything Phil suggested.

"That's such a good idea!" She said, enthusiastically, with a nod, "What day are you free?"

Phil tilted his head to the side to think.

"I can do… Sunday?" He suggested, eventually, after poring over his mind to think of what he was doing for every day this week. He could've chosen a few days earlier, of even tomorrow, but he wanted to wait a while to make sure everything was calm and collected.

They were almost at the spa at this point, and as Phil pushed his glasses up his nose again, he could see the tall figure of Dan waiting for him by the door.

"Sunday sounds great," Summer told him with a smile, "And I'll invite Eliza along, too, should I?"

"Yes, please do," Phil whispered, not because he didn't want Summer to hear, but because he was too busy thinking to want to speak up.

He was glad he'd gotten himself out of an even more uncomfortable situation, but he was starting to wonder whether mixing Eliza and Summer was a good idea.

Never to worry, though – he was sure everything would turn out OK in the end.

He and Summer managed to somewhat have a conversation as they finished the walk to Hallow Slough, and said their goodbyes as they approached the entrance to the spa.

"So, don't forget," Summer started, "Coffee on Sunday, OK?"

"I won't forget," Phil chucked as she left him, waving as she went.

Phil took a few steps forward and gazed up to Dan, smiling, softly,

"Sorry you had to wait, Danny," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Summer insisted on walking with me."

Dan frowned for a bit, looking back and forth from Phil to Summer, who he could see walking away, and then back again.

He rolled his eyes and put a hand on his friend's back to guide him along the path to the door.

"Are you alright?" Phil asked, noting Dan's pensive and irritated expression.

Dan seemed to be surprised by this question, and quickly turned to the side, making eye contact, before giving a gentle but awkward grin.

"What? Me? I'm completely fine!" He assured Phil, "Why are you asking?"

"You seemed concerned about something," Phil replied, pulling open the door by the long, metal handles attached to the wooden edging that broke up the square glass panels.

Dan shook his head and followed him through into the reception,

"Don't worry about me, pal," he coughed as the smell of tea tree oil hit him, assaulting his senses with the odour of bergamot and eucalyptus.

He looked around at the tranquil decorations and made sure to appreciate the water feature behind the desk before he made his way to the changing rooms.

Today was Monday so it was even quieter than last time they came, but maybe that added to the calm and still.

 _"Come on, then,"_ he sighed as he took Phil by the arm so he wouldn't get distracted by the little, fancy fountains that lined the hallway.

"Coming," Phil purred, following closely, though he was less distracted by the water features than by considering the inevitable gracelessness of Sunday night.

Perhaps the patchouli oil, warm water and serene aesthetics would help calm them both down, like it did back in February.


	23. The Mire

One of the many reasons that Phil and Dan decided to return to Willow Creek was because, last time they were here, they hadn't really appreciated everything to the fullest extent.

They'd missed out on going to Oasis Springs, they'd taken for granted the beauty of the whole place, and they'd hardly done _anything_ at the spa.

So today, Dan made it his goal to experience all of the tranquil services that the spa had to offer.

Looking about the top floor, Dan contemplated where to head first.

The sauna seemed like a good idea for a few seconds, but then he was forced to remember the time where he fell over in a sauna a few years ago. He still wasn't ready to risk re-living that.

Yoga was out-of-the-question as they were both quite socially awkward and there was nobody else around, so the instructor would be solely focused on watching them, so no mistake would go un-noticed.

Besides, neither he nor Phil were the most flexible people in the world.

Maybe they wouldn't be able to experience all the facilities after all.

The only thing that left were the massage rooms and the baths.

And this was the moment that Dan remembered that there were mud baths.

He snickered, quietly, to himself before suggesting this idea to Phil, who looked back at him, surprised and somewhat anxious.

"I think you're forgetting the fact that there are two of these baths and that they are in the same room, within a short distance of each-other," Phil pointed out, shakily tightening the belt on his robe.

Dan gave a scoff and flicked his wrist,

"Doesn't it sound fun?" He hummed, and heard Phil sigh but begrudgingly agree. Besides, what else was there to do, really? He hated people touching his feet, so he wasn't about to get a foot massage or anything like that.

"Doesn't mud decrease hygiene?" Phil asked, remembering the time that they sent the Howlters here.

"We're not Sims, Phil, I don't think it really has any effect on us. There are always rose petals for after…" Dan reasoned.

Phil rolled his eyes as they stepped into the room containing the baths, but couldn't help but be relaxed by the soft candlelight.

He felt his eyes start to drift closed as he watched his friend admire the decoration and the shelves with candles set about on them.

Phil didn't trust the candles not to set fire to the wooden ledges above them, but he supposed that if something was going to burn down, it would have by now.

He leaned back on the wall, tiredly, and read the description on the back of a reed diffuser as Dan started to run the tap.

It was only after he had filled the whole tub and mixed in the strangely inviting sludge that he realised he was way too tall to fit in it.

"I seem to have discovered a problem," he breathed.

Phil choked on his own laughter as he watched him attempt to fit in the small bath, to no avail.

"What a massive waste of time…" Phil sniggered, closing his eyes, knowing he was wise to wait.

He opened his eyes again and looked across to see that Dan was past his knees in sludge, and even the fringes of his shorts were muddied.

Phil couldn't tell whether his expression was one of annoyance or one of secretly plotting something.

He didn't really have time to react before Dan chucked a handful of mud into his face.

"Oi, oi!" Phil swallowed, flinching and wiping the dirt from around his mouth. He didn't favour the taste of soil, really.

He almost managed to bend out of the way of a second lot of mud, too, but was a second too slow.

"Dan! Stop it – the staff are going to kick us out!" He half laughed and half hissed. He wasn't wholly joking, either. Though, the staff would probably kick them out just seeing Dan's bright green shorts, regardless of muddied floors.

"There aren't any staff about," Dan argued, staring into Phil's wide and genuinely worried eyes.

After a few seconds, though, Phil's gaze softened and he shrugged, ducking past Dan to grab a handful of sludge to toss at his friend.

His main priority was not getting the robe he was wearing all covered in dirt, because he didn't want the spa people getting all mad at him.

"It's on!" Dan grinned, and so ensued a full-on mud fight.

Thankfully, most ended up on Dan and not on the floor or on the windows, but still Phil couldn't help but wonder whether the people in the house across the road were watching and wondering what they were doing.

Not that he minded – he was too busy winning a mud mêlée.

Being thinner, smaller and somewhat more agile, made him a good bit harder to hit, and so he managed to dodge out of the way of most of his friend's shots, though most of the times where he did get hit, it was in his face.

They ended their battle, though, when they heard footsteps walking up the stairs.

Just in time, too, as Dan had covered his arms in sludge and was about to attack with a bear hug where no white fabrics would get out alive.

And after cleaning themselves off and scrubbing the mucky stains off the robes, both Phil and Dan realised that the point of going to a spa was to relax and they hadn't been doing a whole lot of that.

So they headed to the massage rooms where they almost fell asleep on the soft, cushion-y beds, engulfed by the smells of essential oils and completely mud-free.

They couldn't speak to each other during it, but they both secretly smiled as they lay there.

Because this was _nothing_ like February, and they were both immensely glad.


	24. Is It Dire?

It was with the fresh, warm breeze drifting in the air that Dan walked, with his friend, down the street, away from Hallow Slough and Pendula View.

They were both very relaxed and were finding it increasingly difficult to stay upright with every step.

Legs wobbling, Phil shaded his eyes from the sun with his hand as a shield, looking out over the river as he and Dan made their way across to the Willow Creek Commercial District, past Magnolia Blossom Park.

He didn't know what time it was, but he guessed it was around mid-day.

He yawned, flexed his fingers – that disappointingly didn't crack because of the hand massage he'd been given – and admired the fact that nobody was around.

Linking arms with his friend to stop himself falling over, Dan gazed through the gaps in the buildings to look over the huge lake. He could only just see the end of it where dry land started again, and that, he knew, was Magnolia Promenade.

He remembered that he had written going there with Dab on his ideas list, but he suspected it was too late for that now, seeing as Dab was at the Pancakes' and the Howlter parents would be back in a few days, anyway.

So much for that idea, then.

As they stepped past the museum, Dan remembered their trip there a few months ago where they laid underneath the cherry blossom trees.

Their biggest concern back then was about the barrier, but they needn't have worried, as they got home perfectly fine in the end.

Dan wasn't sure that he had any concerns this time, and he was glad of that; June was going well so far.

He held onto this thought for a while before remembering something that he'd been meaning to ask Phil about.

Not that there was much to ask about.

'Coffee on Sunday' was pretty self-explanatory.

Dan frowned.

This was exactly what he worried about every time Summer turned up.

It was bound to happen sometime, he supposed, and he should've said something, really, before it did. Too late now, though.

He was going to bring the subject up at that very moment, but as he turned to his left, seeing the calm and imperturbable expression on his friend's face, he couldn't bring himself to spoil it.

Besides, they'd just been to the _spa_ to _unwind_ – he couldn't just stir in some conflict to the mood, or at least not just yet.

So instead, he made relaxed conversation, talking about how nice the lake looked, how the light shone off the perfectly clear water with a pretty little shimmer.

Being as serene as they both were, it wasn't hard to stand and appreciate a lake for a few minutes before carrying on walking, and even though he had stuff playing on his mind, Dan still stayed placid.

What he didn't know was that Phil, too, was busy thinking about Sunday. He and Summer had decided that Oasis Springs would be a nice change of scenery, and there was a bar there, too, that served coffee, called the Rattlesnake Juice Bar. Phil vaguely remembered sending Dil and Tabitha there on their honeymoon.

His main fears consisted of, but were not limited to: running into someone he knew, Eliza and Summer not getting along, Eliza not turning up at all – so he was stuck with Summer – and embarrassing himself terribly.

Even though he wasn't too keen on Summer and he knew Eliza wouldn't judge him, he still wanted to keep his reputation on the good side, and saying something stupid certainly wouldn't help that.

He turned to the side to open his mouth to inform Dan about his plans, but decided against it in the end, not wanting to concern him after such a peaceful morning. Maybe he'd tell him tomorrow – besides, surely he had no clue what was going on anyway: he couldn't have heard him talking to Summer, could he?

Surely not.

And anyway, Phil was sure Dan wouldn't mind. After all, it was only coffee.

* * *

"Home sweet home," Dan chirruped, swinging open the front door to the Howlter home.

The house was humid and the heat rushed out of the doorframe, wrapping him in a blanket of stifling warmth.

It was certainly… moist.

Dan winced as his mind stumbled across the word 'moist' and decided not to comment on the temperature of the house, nor the humidity, for that matter.

He stepped inside, ushered Phil through, too, and locked the door behind them both.

Phil always seemed to change as soon as they were inside the house – always making sure everything was clean all the time (and that _was,_ truly, _all the time_ ) and never really sitting down to relax – but today, Dan thought he seemed perfectly fine.

The spa must have done him good.

Dan supposed that discussing Summer would have to wait, even if in his mind, the matter was in dire need of taking care of. In the meantime, he decided that he'd just have to make the most of the whole day without a child to take care of.

Which meant food and TV.


	25. Yes

The smell of burnt toast was what scent drifted through Potter's Splay on that sunny Tuesday morning.

A thick, grey cloud surrounded the cooker and Dan stood with a tea towel, desperately trying to fan it away. He had opened the back door, too, to let some fresh air in, and hopefully let the smoke out.

It was the second day in a row that he had tried making breakfast. Yesterday had been fine, but today, seeing as they had no toaster, he'd had to figure out how to make toast in the oven.

He hadn't figured it out.

"Is something on fire..?"

That was the first thing that Phil Lester said that morning, and that's never a good way to start your day.

Dan turned and chocked on the smoke as he made eye contact, still desperately fanning the open cooker.

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds before Phil took his glasses off to wipe them on the fringe of his T-shirt and cleared his throat,

"Don't answer that," he mumbled.

Dan threw the towel down on the counter and folded his arms, leaning back on the stove.

"I tried making toast," he explained, "Didn't work."

"I noticed. I'll have to clean later before Dil and Tabitha get back home tomorrow," Phil frowned, sliding his glasses back on and blinking a few times to clear his vision, though the room remained cloudy… mostly due to the smoke.

"I- I'll clean, it's fine," Dan insisted, dusting his hands off, "I've got it all sorted."

"The house is going to stink," Phil stated, blankly, without expression on his face, "Not sure the Howlters are going to appreciate that. They leave us alone for a few days and we stick their son in a house with the crazy neighbours and then we go and burn the oven."

Dan paused,

"Are you worrying about Dab?" He asked, quietly.

Phil stared back across at him and swallowed. He didn't particularly want to admit that he doubted the safety of his own idea, nor that he was getting anxious already.

He shrugged instead of giving a straight answer and averted his eyes to gaze out of the back door.

It was a warm day outside, but it was probably even warmer in the house. He kind of wanted to go and sit outside and escape the smell and awkward conversation.

"Don't worry about it, pal," Dan said, eventually, "I'm sure he's fine. Eliza's pretty harmless, after all."

It was impossible not to be fond of someone who at least _attempts_ to make breakfast for you. Even better if that person also tries to comfort you when you worry about your decision to leave your friend's child at your strange neighbour's house.

I stress the word 'tries' here, because Dan wasn't doing a very good job.

"Harmless?" Phil repeated, rolling up his sleeves, "Can you really anticipate anything Eliza does? Never even mind whether it'll hurt anyone or not."

"Well, Dab will be back today anyway, so you have nothing to be anxious about," Dan assured him, picking up the tea towel again and wafting the last of the smoke cloud out of the door.

"He was my responsibility, I shouldn't have thrown my duty on someone else anyway," Phil breathed.

"You mean _our_ duty? Dil and Tabitha left the house to _both_ of us," Dan corrected him, shutting the oven door.

Phil didn't reply at first, and Dan watched him look everywhere but his line of vision.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Dan asked, and Phil's eyes shot like lasers up to him.

"I don't… think so," he replied, sounding confused with himself, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, a cold sweat running down his spine.

Perhaps it was just the heat from the oven.

Dan swallowed and shrugged his friend's behaviour off. After all, he hadn't had any caffeine in a few days; frankly, Dan was surprised he wasn't even _more_ snappy.

"Anywhere you fancy going today?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject to something lighter, "There's always Magnolia Promenade or Oasis Springs-"

Phil's heart jumped at the mention of Oasis Springs. A sick sensation filled his stomach and he felt his legs wobble. He really didn't feel up to Sunday. At least he had a few days to prepare mentally.

Dan had seemed to notice the bothered expression on his face and his slight trembling, because he tilted his head to the side and stood still, inspecting him.

"Are you going to talk to me?" He breathed, quite seriously, yet still softly.

Phil licked his dry lips and finally opened his mouth to speak.

"What about?"

"You know what about," Dan replied, straightening his back and slipping his hands in his pockets, "Seeing as you're being difficult, we might as well talk about Summer."


	26. It's a Mess

**A/N:**

 **Where have all my readers gone?**

 **Hopefully they won't be long.**

 **They disappeared into thin air,**  
 **And now they are no longer there.**

 **Was it really that dull and sad?**  
 **It definitely wasn't _that_ bad.**

 **It was only just getting good,**  
 **After the chapter with the mud.**

 **I appreciate what I've got,**  
 **Even though it's not a lot,**

 **It's just a mystery where the rest all went.**

 ***Bows* thank you very much.  
-Whisker**

* * *

"Wh- what's there to say… really?" Phil stuttered, awkwardly.

His fidgeting didn't give off a very good impression, either. Who was going to believe there was nothing to worry about if he was acting so weirdly about it?

Certainly not Dan.

"I heard you talking to her yesterday," Dan coughed, raising an eyebrow, "Don't think I didn't."

Phil's breath staggered and he took a step back, wringing his hands out,

"And?" He swallowed, "What's wrong?"

Dan changed his expression to one more puzzled, rather than irritated. He couldn't tell whether Phil was acting odd anyway or whether he was pressuring him too much.

"I just wondered why you'd accept her… offer… of going out on Sunday," he explained.

"Oh, that?" Phil replied, very quietly.

"Did you forget about it or something?"

"No, no. I only… didn't know why you'd be concerned about it so much."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dan asked.

Phil lifted his gaze again to make eye contact and heaved a sigh.

"Well, it's just coffee, isn't it?"

"With Summer. Alone," Dan pointed out, but Phil shook his head.

"Eliza's coming, too," he said, "You can come, too, if you like, but I know you're not too keen on Summer… and I don't think she's too keen on you, either."

"I'm not coming," Dan said, softly, shaking his head, "Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. After all, they never invited _me_."

" _I_ invited you," Phil argued, "Just now: five seconds ago."

"Sorry," Dan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I didn't mean to make this a big deal…"

Phil swallowed the lump forming in his throat and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. He was glad that this hadn't escalated into a repeat of 'last time', but he still felt that 'this time' hadn't worked out quite how he'd hoped.

 _"I thought this was supposed to be a good week…"_ he mumbled, under his breath, but when Dan confusedly asked him to repeat what he'd said, he replied only with, "Nothing. I don't know if I'll even be going on Sunday."

"Why not?" Dan enquired.

"Truthfully, I don't know if I'll be up to it, Dan," Phil told him with a shrug, the room starting to blur, "I'm probably just tired, but… Ah, I don't know," he huffed, shaking his head again to try to right his vision.

"Maybe you need some fresh air," Dan suggested, nodding towards the back door, "Get dressed and sit outside for a bit if you like."

It was a good suggestion. Maybe it was because it was early, or because the house was warm, but Phil could definitely tell that something was off. He shrugged it off, though, brushing the dizziness aside in favour of trying to fix up what was supposed to be a good week.

* * *

All through that day, Phil would hear constant enquiries about his well-being. It started to get annoying around the 5th time it was asked.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his friend's concern, but frequently repeating it just reminded him that it was there, when he'd rather forget about it.

The Howlters would be back the next morning and so Phil had taken it upon himself to make sure the house was spotless, and that meant cleaning the oven, of course.

Dan had offered to do it for him, but of course Phil had refused and told him to go and clean the bathroom instead, even though it was already clean.

Dan agreed nonetheless, and left Phil to do his own thing.

He was still slightly worried about Sunday, but remembering that Eliza would be there calmed him down.

As aforementioned, he was just rather over-protective.

Another thing happening today was the return of Dab, who should be walking through the door any second around about-

 _Ding-dong!_

Dan smiled, placed the bleach bottle back down on the tiled floor and stood up, his legs shaky from kneeling too long.

The time was around 12 and Dan supposed he'd have to start making dinner for the kid in a minute, too.

As he walked into the main room, he noticed his friend sat on the floor in front of the oven, rubbing his eyes and drearily gazing up to the door.

Clearly, he'd dropped off.

Dan asked him if he was alright one last time, received a nod of assurance, and unlocked the door.

"Hey, Dab!" He grinned, "Did you have a nice time?"

"It was great!" Dab nodded, enthusiastically, stepping inside and throwing his rucksack on the armchair, "Evan's really fun. He says he wants to come and stay over here sometime, too!"

Phil stood up, then, leaning his hands on the breakfast bar and frowning slightly. He wasn't keen much on the idea of having yet another child to care for.

"That's a great idea," Dan smiled, and Dab's face lit up and Phil rolled his eyes. Of course Dan would agree to that.

He supposed the only thing he could do was roll with it at this point.


	27. Phil's House

The house was spotless.

Kitchen sparkling, beds made, bedroom carpets vacuumed and sofa cushions plumped.

Everything was perfect for the return of Dil and Tabitha. Dab had wanted to help out, too, so Dan had given him the task of cleaning out Jonathan the Minnow's fish tank, much to Phil's uncertainty.

Phil drearily unlocked his phone to gaze at the time: 10:30.

There was plenty of time before the Howlters got back at 12, so he laid his head back down on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

He'd decided to rest a bit before mid-day, after his frantic running about and making everything ideal. He'd only just been able to get rid of the smoky smell that had seemed to taint the air, too.

Dan was, too, unwinding, and spending some time on the Internet for a while. The Sim Internet was a slight bit different to the normal web, but it was easy enough to navigate and at least still had the basics, like YouTube. So of course, Dan opted to spend his time there.

Phil could hear the clicking of the keyboard, but apart from that, everything was silent.

He gazed up at Melapples – Dil's first painting, hanging on the wall beside the window – one last time before his eyes drifted closed and he began to drop off.

He probably would have fallen fast asleep, too, if he hadn't have been awoken by a painfully loud and sudden crash.

He sprang into consciousness, his heart feeling as if it was pounding in his throat, and swallowed, anxiously.

He'd heard the rattle of Dan probably jumping back in surprise at the noise, too, before his typing stopped.

"I'm sorry!" He heard Dab yelp, and the sound of glass crunching could be perceived, "It was an accident!"

Phil didn't hear Dan speak, so assumed he was in a sort of shock.

Standing up and walking to the other side of the room, he pressed his ear up to the door to hear Dab breathe a scared _'oh no…'_ and Dan whisper _'Phil's going to be mad…'_

Phil frowned because he knew exactly what had happened.

"Get a glass!" Dab quivered, "We need to save Jonathan!"

And Phil heard Dan bound over to the kitchen, rattling through the cupboards and turn on a tap before hurrying over to the living room.

Phil pushed open the door, leaned on the doorframe, folded his arms and frowned at the devastation on the floor.

Shards of glass were strewn about everywhere and a pool of water had collected in the rug and was now seeping out onto the floorboards, and bits of gravel were just… absolutely everywhere.

 _"Great job,"_ Phil hissed, angrily, digging his nails into his thin arms, but even that didn't relieve the irritation, " _Just ACE!"_

Dan stared up to him from the floor, wobbling as he crouched there, a large glass containing a minnow in his hand.

"Ok, look, I know it's a mess, but if you just stay calm-" he started, but Phil cut him off, irritably.

"I had everything perfect!" He yelled, throwing his arms down to his sides in frustration, "And just as I thought everything was sorted and I could finally stop worrying about everything, you go and do this!" And he put his head in his hands, shakily walking in a circle before looking back up, anxiously, "And we only have an hour and a half until your parents are due home, too!" He snapped at Dab, who jumped back in shock.

"Hey _, calm_ ; it'll be fine," Dan repeated, standing up and placing the glass down on the breakfast bar before attempting to console his friend, but as he reached to put a gentle hand on his shoulder, Phil angrily pushed him away.

"It's not going to be 'fine', Dan!" He retorted, "Didn't you hear what I said? _Not even two hours!"_

"Look, take it easy, pal," Dan hushed, "We can go and buy another one in time before twelve, don't worry-"

" _And then there's the cleaning, too- we're never going to get the smell out of the carpet! The glass, the water, the gravel everywhere-"_

"I just said: take _it easy_ …"

"You really think we'll have enough time to clean up this mess?" Phil yelled, "I knew it was a bad idea to-"

"Hey, hey, shhh!" Dan butted in, digging his nails into his friend's shoulders and holding his steady, "If we head out now, we could get back in time to speed clean everything."

"No, we can't-"

"Well, we're losing time standing here arguing about it – you start cleaning and Dab and I will head out to Magnolia Promenade to find a new tank, alright?"

Phil heaved a sigh, frowned, but begrudgingly agreed to this idea, and he slumped back against the wall with his head in his hands as Dan and Dab got ready to go.

Nothing could ever work out his way, could it?


	28. Whereabouts

_"'It'll be fine',"_ Phil scoffed, under his breath, mocking Dan's words from earlier as he knelt down on the damp, cream floorboards, shakily sweeping tiny blue bits of gravel off the floor.

He heaved a sigh and frowned, irritably. This house was his now that the Howlters were away, and he found it highly inopportune and thwarting that something like this should happen the day before he had to hand back his responsibility.

He'd taken good care of everything until now – in fact, he'd hardly done anything but clean and make sure everything was tidy – yet, of course, it had to be today that _this_ happens.

It wasn't just the house care that he'd been appointed with; it was the child care as well. He felt like he'd made a mess of that, too, when he'd left Dab to Eliza for two nights. The rest of the childminding, Dan had taken care of.

Phil couldn't tell whether it had been easier when the kid was younger and mostly had no clue what was going on. Now, though, Phil felt that he had to think of something for him to do all the time, though Dan had taken that challenge on board instead, and usually spent his time hanging out with Dab.

Dab seemed to like Dan more than Phil anyway.

Whenever he'd created a new drawing, he'd never eagerly show it to Phil, but rather skip up to Dan and enthusiastically bare it to him instead.

Phil sighed and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before standing up, balancing the contents of the dustpan in his hand. He tipped it into the rest of the gravel, which he had collected and emptied into a bowl on the coffee table. He'd have to put it all back in the new tank later, so he tried to collect every last piece.

He laid the dustpan and brush down on the table, too, and wiped his hands on the side of his pastel blue shirt.

His knees were slightly damp, too, from kneeling on the floor for so long, though after putting down an abundance of tea towels and kitchen paper, the moisture seemed to be almost all gone.

It'd been tiring picking up every tiny pebble, but Phil was pretty sure he'd gotten them all, and the ones that he hadn't had probably just fallen down the cracks between the floorboards and couldn't be seen anyway.

The time was nearing 11:30 and Phil was starting to get a tad jittery, like a cat on a hot tin roof, seeing as Dan and Dab weren't back home yet and Dil and Tabitha would be coming back in only half an hour.

He swallowed and rubbed his eyelids, tiredly. Where had his housemate gotten to? It'd been an hour already, why wasn't he back yet with the kid and a new fish tank?

He gritted his teeth and stared to the minnow, swimming around, merrily, in the glass on the breakfast bar.

" _You_ don't have to worry about disappointing people," he frowned at Jonathan.

Jonathan did not reply.

What a shock.

Dil and Tabitha would be home any minute now, and if Dan didn't return soon, they surely wouldn't be happy. Or at least, that's what Phil held.

It was at this very moment that he heard the key turn in the lock and he hurried to stand in front of Jonathan's glass to hide the evidence. Not that the Howlters wouldn't notice the absence of the tank on the table.

Phil straightened his collar, brushed his shirt down, put his hands behind his back and cleared his throat, preparing himself for the awkward interaction that was sure to follow.

Yet, to his surprise and slight relief, it wasn't Dil and Tabitha who walked through the door, but Dan, with Dab close behind.

"Where have _you_ been, Howell?" Phil growled, impatiently, folding his arms.

Dan stared back to him, nervously, and scratched the back of his neck.

"Sorry, pal – it took us a while to walk all the way there and back," he apologised, noticing on his phone that the time was almost mid-day, "You've done a great job of cleaning up, though, I must say…"

"Yeah, right," Phil huffed, "You can sort out the rest, I'll put away the shoes and coats that you've left on the _floor,_ and make sure everything's sorted _again_ before the Howlters get back," he sighed, tiredly.

Only, he needn't have been as fussed as he was, because the Howlters didn't come back as they were due.

In fact, they didn't really come back at all.

Both Phil, Dan and Dab waited as patiently as they could, hanging around and doing nothing in particular; Dab playing in his bedroom as Dan killed time laying on the sofa and Phil hunched over the breakfast bar, tapping his cold fingertips on the work surface.

He gazed down to his phone beside him and tapped the home button to turn it on and stare at the time.

3:30.

How could they be _three and a half hours_ late?

Phil chewed his lip in thought, shakily picking up the phone and scrolling through his contact list.

"I'm going to call them," he coughed, speaking up for the first time in a very long while.

Dan half jumped back in surprise at the sudden announcement, then turned around to face his friend.

"I'm sure they won't be long," he said, "But if that's what you want to do, go ahead."

Phil nodded to him, assuredly, and slowly raised his phone to his ear.

Dan watched him and listened to the faint sound of the call dialling, along with the rhythmic tapping of Phil's fingers.

They waited for around half a minute before Dil answered.

Dan couldn't hear his voice, but he sure heard Phil's responses, and they weren't reassuring, especially not the taken aback yelp of 'WHAT?' and the worried expression on his face.

"I… I'll be right there…" Phil stuttered, clearing the lump in his throat, uneasily.

Dil must have refused at first, as the next thing Dan heard his friend say was 'no – I'm coming', accompanied by a frustrated frown.

There were few more words spoken before the call was ended and Phil restlessly put his face in his hands and tapped his foot violently on the kitchen tiles.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked, standing up and heading over to attempt to console him.

"I…" Phil swallowed, looking upwards and refusing a comforting hug, "I'll call you later, I have to go-"

"Where?" Dan stammered, "Is something wrong?"

Phil stood up straight and fixed his glasses,

"I just said I'd call you later," he repeated, moseying past Dan and disappearing into the bedroom to get a coat and shoes. He reappeared a second later and unsteadily unlocked the front door as Dan watched him with a mystified expression.

"Phil!" Dan called as he opened the door, hoping to get at least some different words out of him.

Phil looked back to him, waiting.

"Be… be careful, alright?" Dan reminded him.

And for the first time that day, his friend gave a smile; even if it be a melancholy one.

"Don't worry, I will," he said, confidently, and as Dan saluted him, he slunk away.


	29. Granite Falls

Granite Falls was truly a stunning and captivating place.

The many pine trees were high and if you looked straight up them, the bright sun would probably blind you.

All around were Bravura Mountains –one with a very clear waterfall streaming down it – and behind them, the forest seemed to stretch on forever.

The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the grass was olive green, and right beyond the mass of trees ahead, there was a lake that seemed unrealistically clear.

But Phil Lester had no time for appreciating the scenery because there was a problem at hand and he'd taken it upon himself, as part creator and manager of these life forms, to sort it out.

Not being used to the extremely long walk, he was almost panting from exhaustion and heat when he finally arrived at the campsite.

Wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, he gazed around the place. Dil had said he'd meet him here – where _was_ he?

"Phil!"

Phil spun around to detect the source of the voice, and soon found his Sim, Dil Howlter, standing beside some sort of weird moose statue.

Unsteadily walking over with his hands in his coat pockets, Phil noted the numerous lodges surrounding them, all around. What was the point of going to a campsite if you were just going to stay in provided accommodation; camping was about 'roughing it' out in the open and sleeping under the stars, not… 'glamping'.

Not that Phil liked camping anyway; he had a few unfavourable memories of it that usually kept him from going ever again. He certainly hoped he didn't have to stay overnight tonight.

"Still can't find her, then?" He sighed, and Dil shook his head.

"I've looked as well as I could – she said she was going out for a walk this morning and I haven't seen her since," Dil explained, nervously, "It's hard to look for people in the woods: it's so big and dark, you can hardly see _anything_."

Phil bit his lip, anxiously, and once again looked about. He could remember this all from a few years ago when he and Dan had sent Dil and Tabitha with the Pancakes. It had been a… memorable time. Bob wouldn't let anyone play horseshoes, Dil spent his time dressed in a panda suit, roaring at people, and Tabitha had, at one point, disappeared into thin air.

And, of course, it had happened again.

Only this time, it wasn't as simple as reloading the game.

 _Nothing_ was ever that simple anymore, and _nothing_ ever seemed to go to plan.

"What do you suggest we do now?" Phil asked, and Dil shrugged,

"Not much else we can do, really…" he replied, looking over his shoulder, "I've extended the plot rental for another two days, though, so we have plenty of time."  
"A… another two?" Phil swallowed, feeling a hot shiver run down his spine, "Do you really think it'll take that long?"

"I hope not," Dil mumbled, "But I can't be sure. Here, come with me and we'll head to the tent," and he started to stroll away.

Phil took a second or two to process what was happening but he soon followed closely, down the dirt path leading across to where you could pitch a tent and go properly camping.

It wasn't a long walk, and when they got there, Phil noticed the large, purple tent, which was set up, pegged into the ground.

"It's been five hours," Dil said, eventually, "I thought she would have come back by now, but she knows we were meant to leave at half eleven to be home by twelve, so she'd definitely come back before then… so then I started worrying, as you do," he continued, "And went out searching for her, but, you know… No joy this time."

Phil frowned and stared into the trees, far into the dark depths of the shadowy forest. Surely there was nowhere else Tabitha could have disappeared off to; she had to be in there _somewhere_ … hadn't she?

Phil supposed that there was only one way to find out, and so picked up the torch that was set on the ground, and clicked it on and off to check that it worked.

"You come with me, then," he told Dil, gesturing to the seemingly endless woods ahead of them both, "We'll find her eventually."

"Thanks for giving me a hand out here, Phil," Dil smiled, following him toward the trees.

"Yeah… No worries, I guess."

"Is something wrong?"

Phil shook his head, though he didn't seem entirely sure of himself.

With his substandard sense of direction, he felt he probably wouldn't be of any help in searching for Dil's wife, but he'd do what he could, even if it meant potentially getting lost, bruised, scraped and muddied.

…Not that he hadn't had encounters with mud previously this week.

* * *

The forest was gloomy, deep and lonely.

There were almost no sounds to be heard: only the crinkle of leaves and sticks underneath your feet, the rustle of the leaves in the wind and the occasional far-flung conversation, though the words were too distant to recognise.

Phil had assumed that they'd be able to hear Tabitha in the forest, seeing as it was so serene and the leaves on the ground would crackle loudly whenever you stepped on them, but this theory was proved false: even when he and Dil stopped still, neither of them could hear any other person anywhere.

It was beginning to seem that their search was all in vain anyway.

Phil gave a loud sigh and fiddled with the torch in his hand, apprehensively. Neither Dab nor Dan had any idea what was happening, and if he couldn't find Tabitha today, Dab would certainly be horror-struck and it would be Dan who would have to sort him out, alongside the jobs around the house.

Phil didn't want to leave his friend too many tasks, but it was turning out to take longer than expected to find Mrs Howlter.

Which reminded Phil that he had earlier assured Dan that he would call him.

He turned to Dil, who seemed to be listening closely for any sign of his wife, and cleared his throat.

"I… I hope you don't mind just for a minute, but… I really should call Dan to let him know I might be out for… quite a while."  
Dil turned to him, surprised,

"Does he know where you are?" He asked.

"Well… not really," Phil replied, uneasily, "But listen, I should let him know what we're doing. Are you alright out here on your own? We can meet back at the tent at seven."

Dil agreed to this idea, even though he seemed reluctant to split up, and gave a wave to Phil as he seemed to instantly and seamlessly disappear into the trees.

All the big trees...


	30. And Phone Calls

Dan had had an awkward day so far.

It was nearing on 7PM and he'd decided that he should send Dab to bed very soon, so he had just started trying – once again – to toast some bread in the oven, before he heard his phone ring.

He wasted no time in accepting it, remembering that Phil had said he'd call. Dan was extremely curious to know where his friend had gotten to, seeing as he hadn't actually mentioned the place, and hurriedly answered.

"Phil! _Where are you_?" He asked, straight off the bat, and heard a surprised stutter from the other end of the line.

 _"Granite Falls…"_ Phil replied, quietly _, "Looking for Tabitha."  
_

"What? Why?" Dan stammered, "Is she missing?"

 _"Why else would I be looking for her?"_

This was a valid question.

It seemed that Dan's shocked exclamation had alerted Dab, because he soon appeared in his bedroom doorway and peered around the corner of the frame to look to Dan, yet staying out of sight.

"Is Dil OK?" He heard Dan ask, but could only hear a muffled reply from Phil, too stifled to hear.

"Well, as long as he's fine…" Dan continued, "…But are _you_ alright?"

Dab saw him bite his lip as his he heard Phil's answer, and waited for a while, slowly chewing his fingernails as his friend spoke.

His face fell eventually and he dropped his hand to his side,

"Two days?" He swallowed, "And you don't know when you'll be back?"

 _"I'm hoping it won't be long,"_ Phil sighed, " _But I can't promise you anything."_

"Well… I…" Dan started, " _Ach-_ just stay safe, alright? Try not to get yourself injured, _please."_

Dab curiously yet nervously listened still, tilting his head to the side and trying to distinguish Phil's words, but to no avail.

He saw the expression on Dan's face, though, and knew it couldn't be good.

"Be as quick as you can," Dan breathed with a weak smile, "Hope you find her soon… Ok… Yeah; miss you, too… see you soon, pal."

And he ended the call, sliding his phone across the breakfast bar after doing so.

Dab stepped through the doorway then, fiddling with the edging of his brown T-shirt, and timidly chewing the inside of his mouth,

"Was that Phil?" He asked, and Dan quickly turned to him, looking a little bit taken aback.

"Yeah, it was," he replied with a firm nod.

"Where is he?"

"Granite Falls."

"Are mum and dad OK?" Dab whispered, sounding concerned.

"Well… your dad's fine, but… your mum's…" Dan tried to answer, but he didn't quite know how to phrase it.

In the end, he ended up just blurting it out straight.

"Gone missing. In the forest," he said.

Dab's face fell and he started to look as if he was going to cry, so Dan hurried to think of something comforting to say to him.

"But don't worry: Phil and your dad are looking for her," he assured the kid, "And I'm sure that they won't be long, either."

Dab stared up to him in an odd manner,

"I heard you say something about 'two days'," he recalled, "Are they going to be out for tomorrow and Friday, too?"

Dan sighed, heavily and tiredly, before shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't know, Dab…" he mumbled, "I just don't know… I'm certain they'll be fine, though – there's nothing to worry about – trust me!" And he smiled again.

Dab still didn't seem sure, but just as Dan was about to continue, all the lights in the house flickered before there was a crackle and they all went out with a pop.

Dan groaned and put his face in his hands,

"I forgot the bills needed paying today!" He grumbled, "Your dad was supposed to pay them when he got back from Granite Falls with Tabitha, but of course, he didn't…"

Dab pulled a tired expression and looked about the slightly now darkened room.

"I don't want to go to bed," he muttered, being too worried about his parents to even feel at all tired.

To his surprise, Dan grinned and thoughtfully rubbed his hands together,

"Tell you what," he began, "Just for tonight, you can stay up until midnight with me."

"Wh- Really?" Dab exclaimed, surprised that Dan would let him stay awake so late.

"Yeah, of course," Dan nodded, "Now go and get your duvet and we'll build a pillow fort!"

* * *

Phil returned to the campsite just after the time turned 7PM and the air started to get a bit chillier.

The leaves crinkled under his feet as he stepped further toward the tent, but he ran out of energy before he could get there, and instead plonked himself down on the ground instead.

At least it was dry.

His blue trainers had gained a thin layer of mud over them, which he wasn't ecstatic about, but he supposed it was _no pain, no gain_ , as they say.

He heard Dil emerge from the tent a few seconds later and walked towards him, and so lifted his gaze to make eye contact.

"No sign of her, then?" Dil asked, and Phil shook his head.

"No," he rasped, his voice arid, "Maybe tomorrow, though."

Dil shrugged,

"Hey, why don't you eat something; you looked tired," he offered, "I have some stuff Tabitha and I never ate in the cooler-"  
"No, thanks, I'm fine," Phil croaked before yawning.

"Maybe you want to sleep, then?"

"It's only seven."

"And? You've had a busy week, I imagine – you deserve the rest," Dil insisted.

Phil reluctantly agreed to this, because he was absolutely exhausted, and as soon as he was settled down in the warm tent, he fell straight asleep.


	31. Angst and Toast

**A/N: Hey! Sorry this chapter's so _l o n g,_ so I hope you don't mind. Hopefully it will be... not boring...  
Have fun, I guess.**

 **~Whisker**

* * *

There's something about blanket forts. Maybe it's the cosiness, or maybe it's the feeling of having a place of your own – a kingdom, if you will – to feel safe and secure, surrounded by things like cushions and teddy bears that give off a sort of oddly calming air.

No matter who or where you are, a tiny house made of blankets could always make you feel out of harm's way.

Even better if it was dark outside, and you had only the dim, golden glow of a torch to illuminate your den.

This was the first time that Dab had experienced the joy of a blanket fort, and he was greatly enjoying it.

Dan had set up the chairs around the table so that when he spread out Dab's duvet over it along with the blanket he'd been using to keep him warm at night on the sofa, everything was completely covered.

He'd set the momentum conserver on top of the covers to make sure they couldn't slip off, gathered every cushion and pillow in the house to stuff in the darkness under the table, and placed a torch on its end - supported by a few books and a leg of the black chair – to light everything up. He'd also retrieved the slightly well-done toast from the oven, of which he had been attempting to make before Phil called, and was currently enjoying himself, nibbling the blackened crust. The toast probably would've burnt if the power hadn't gone off.

It was certainly cosy, and it was even cosier once Dab had gotten together some things from his room that he wanted to bring into his den: the llamacorn he loved so much, a few books and even Drago (to sit outside and guard. There wasn't enough room under the table for him, and Dan wasn't too keen on having him there, either).

To his surprise, Dan found that he could fit under the table, too, as long as he sat with his legs bent in such a way they looked like the letter W. And even then he had to hunch his back, but it was worth it for the joy of being in a blanket fort.

He leaned back on a blue cushion from the sofa and watched as Dab slipped in, through the blanket curtains, and sat himself down on the floorboards.

He seemed to be enjoying the fort, too.

"Thanks for letting me stay up, Uncle Dan," Dab smiled.

"That's alright," Dan chuckled, "And you don't have to call me 'uncle', either: just 'Dan' will do."

Dab grinned and nodded his head,

"OK, unc- I mean, Dan," he chirped, "You're much more fun than Phil."

Dan raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, curiously.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "I thought you liked Phil?"

"Well…" Dab mumbled, awkwardly, looking away, "I kind of do… but he's always really strict and never seems happy anymore."

Dan considered this out-of-the-blue statement for a while, and even though he knew that how Phil had been acting recently wasn't normal, he couldn't help but agree.

"He's not always like this," he said, attempting to somewhat justify his friend's temper.

"He was like this last time," Dab reminded him.

Dan swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, apprehensively, poring over his thoughts of last time and remembering that he wasn't with Phil for a few days of it and didn't know what he was like during the time he was left home with Dab.

"It was after you left for a bit, mostly," the kid continued, "I suppose he really missed you. Why did you have to go and leave anyway?"

"I'm not sure he'd want me to tell you," Dan replied, recalling how irritated Phil had been when he'd told Dab about Erica and what she'd tried to do back in February.

Dab's face fell in dismay. It seemed he really wanted to know what the whole thing was about, and Dan supposed he'd have to tell him one day. After all, he was there for most of it; he had a right to know.

"Well… if you really must know, I guess I can justify it later," he hummed and saw Dab look back up to him, inquisitively. He heaved a sigh and prepared his words in his head before averting his eyes to the floor,

"We had a fight," he started, and paused for a few seconds before carrying on, "…I'd thought that it was him who got us both stuck here – because we didn't know how to get home at that point, remember?"

"Yeah, dad told me where you're from," Dab nodded, "Go on."

Dan bit his lip and resumed his account,

"I got really mad at him. It was late and I was tired and-" but then he shook his head, annoyed, "No… there's no way I can excuse it. It was awful: I hurt him and left him alone and that can't be rationalised by any means. I went and brooded in the park and it was only when I caught sight of him one day that I went back. I realised it wasn't his fault, you see, that night, and came back to the house to knock on the door, but it was in the early hours of the morning and, of course, there was no answer, but I assumed he was mad at me anyway, so I returned to the park…"

"You could have stayed with the Pancakes," Dab put in, "So you didn't have to sleep outside."

"But I didn't think of that at the time," Dan shrugged, "You tend not to think of these things when your mind's all jumbled up. He seemed to cheer up after I got back properly, though, didn't he?"

"A little bit," Dab concurred, "He was still quiet, though."

"Not as bad as this time, then?"

"Definitely not. He just always seems to be annoyed at everything _this_ time."

Dan sighed, loudly, and flicked his fingernails as he thought. He expected it could be down to the responsibility of having the house to care for along with the child, besides being anxious about February repeating itself.

Yet, in hoping it wouldn't turn out the same again, it seemed it was starting to.

"Maybe he's just… nervous. He's got a lot to worry about," Dan reasoned, remembering Sunday, too, "I'm sure he'll get better."

"Are you worried about him at Granite Falls, Dan?" Dab asked, quietly, and Dan nodded in reply.

"He'll be fine," Dab said, confidently, "If he runs into Erica or anyone, he can just frown at them and they'll be gone in no time."

Dan sniggered. He decided Dab was probably right, and his friend would get better soon. After all, surely Phil Lester could never be down for long.

Dan picked up the torch from the floor, held it towards his face and grinned,

"How about I tell you a _scary story_ about a doctor and the plague..?"

* * *

12PM, the Campground, Granite Falls.

It was pitch black outside and the air was bitter.

A chilly breeze drifted through the tall trees, the only light was from the moon – and even that didn't do much to help – and Phil was currently wide awake, sat cross-legged on the grass outside, staring at the campfire.

It was very serene outside, even if very cold, and Phil had to wrap his arms around himself to keep warm, even though he had a thick coat on.

After 5 hours of rest, he'd been woken for no particular reason and decided, instead of going back to sleep, that he should get some more fresh air.

He'd managed to not wake Dil, too, in the process of getting outside, even though his long, thin, gangly legs were a tad awkward to move sometimes.

He pulled his collar over his nose and breathed a heavy breath into it to warm his face. He didn't want to sleep. He was too paranoid about finding Tabitha.

Besides, what if she was in danger? No use sitting around doing nothing if he could be out trying to help, Phil thought, and shakily got to his feet.

A walk would warm him up if nothing else.

His breath catching, he began to wander down the path, away from the campsite, past the bench and barbeque, past the moose statue, and toward what looked like the darkest part of the forest.

He almost wanted to get lost.

At least it'd be exciting.

He realised that he'd never succeed in finding Tabitha if he didn't push his limits and venture as far into the trees as he could possibly go.

Sleepy-eyed, Phil stared through the woods and followed the very long path further into them.

He could just about see something like a roof poking out over the treetops, so he decided that that was a good thing to head towards. Besides, if he got there, maybe there would be a park ranger or somebody who had maybe seen Tabitha around.

Thinking about it, Phil realised he looked such a mess that any park ranger would probably take him inside, wrap him in a blanket, give him a warm drink and tell him to rest.

No matter how appealing that sounded, though, Phil stayed loyal to the task at hand, which was finding his Sim.

He was getting worried about her now, too.

Of course he was – he was a considerate person, and even if he was tired, hungry and cold, he knew that he had to do everything in his power to find Mrs Howlter.

He started to hum a song to himself as he trekked down the dirt path, the occasional crunching of twigs, leaves and stones being the only sounds around, though sometimes accompanied by the chirping of crickets.

The trees towered far above, casting eerie shadows down to the ground, the glow of the moon just about managing to shine through the gaps in the leaves, though it still wasn't quite light enough for Phil to see where he was putting his feet.

He hoped for the best, that he wouldn't stand on a shard of glass, sharp stone, or fall straight into a ditch, as he lifted his eyes to the gigantic trees.

He knew that Dan would have been terrified if he was here. Dan didn't particularly like trees when it was dark.

It was with this thought that a sick feeling started to fill his stomach and he felt himself get slightly dizzy, but he took it as nothing and carried on, though his legs seemed to wobble more with every step.

Looking to his right, he saw a mass of rocks and, beyond them, a fallen tree. Its vast trunk stretched for quite a way, and the moonlight was shining down on one particular part of it, and it just looked too appealing to walk past, so Phil shrugged to himself, wearily, and changed his path to head toward it.

It was as he got past the aforementioned rock pile that he noticed a dim glow to his left.

It flickered a bit as he watched it shine off the sides of the trees, and seemed to change colour sometimes.

Phil didn't know whether he was just imagining this odd light, but nonetheless made the risky choice to explore further, and curiously yet nervously slipped behind a wide tree trunk and, as silently as he could, peered around the corner.

His eyes widened and he had a moment of confusion where he didn't know how to react. His throat seemed to tighten and he took a nervy step backwards, wringing his hands before he finally figured out how to respond.

 _"Tabitha!"_


	32. Sucralose

As soon as the attention of Tabitha Howlter had been caught, she wasted no time in scrambling to her feet and bounding over, with a spring in her step, to meet the owner of the voice that had called her.

At first, Phil was relieved to see her, and even smiled for a bit, finally comforted, knowing that she was alright.

"Phil!" Tabitha chirruped, and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapped around his sharp ribs, "What are _you_ doing out here?"

Phil's relief turned swiftly to annoyance and he attempted to pull away.

"Looking for _you_ ; what else would I be out here for?" He snapped, "Sightseeing?" And at the hint of irritation in his voice, Tabitha let go of him and took a step back.

"Come on now, calm down…" she swallowed.

Phil sighed and averted his eyes to the floor, bending his shoulders in exhaustion.

"Sorry…" he apologised, "It's been a long day… or rather, yesterday was… what time is it? 1AM?"

Tabitha checked the phone in her hand that had been the source of the light earlier and read the time.

"Yeah, almost," she nodded, and then looked back up to make eye contact, "You said it had been a long day; what's been happening?"

"I'll tell you later. I think the real question is about what in the world you're doing here," Phil replied, and awaited an explanation.

"I went for a walk," Tabitha answered, stating the obvious, "I wandered all the way down here and something just so happened to catch my eye… turned out to be a shrub hole just down there-" and she gestured over her shoulder to where Phil would have been able to see a tunnel in the side of a pile of rocks, its entrance surrounded by leaves and branches, if it was light enough.

Only, it _wasn't_ light enough, so he _couldn't_ see it.

"And?" He pushed.

"I went through it and I found the most amazingly beautiful place – you should have seen it, Phil, it was stunning – there were mountains all around and a waterfall and a-" Tabitha went on, but Phil cut her off before she could carry on rhapsodising.

"And you got so carried away admiring the scenery that you forgot to come back to the campsite?" He put in, urging on the story.

"You could say it like that," Tabitha said, her cheeks flushing pink, though it was too dark to tell, "There was an old lady there who was very nice and invited me in for tea. I went with her because I did fancy some tea, but I suppose I got carried away. Only just escaped about half an hour ago, and I was so tired I had to sit and rest for a bit."

"Didn't you think to call Dil?" Phil asked, his voice soft yet slightly hoarse, "He was scared stiff about you…" and he paused before adding, "So was I…"

"Oh- Phil!" Tabitha breathed, endearingly, "I didn't have any signal on my phone," she mumbled, "I would've called, but I couldn't. I'm sorry I worried you both so much."

" _Ah,_ it's fine, I suppose. What matters is that you're OK," Phil assured her, straining a smile, "Now we really should get back to Dil before he starts wondering where I disappeared to."

"You didn't tell him where you were going?" Tabitha asked, following along as Phil turned away and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Didn't want to wake him," Phil whispered, his breath showing up like smoke in the cold air.

"How about Dan?"

"He's at home."

"Does he know where you are?"

"More or less."

"'More or less'?" Tabitha repeated, sceptically raising an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I called him. He knows I'm at Granite Falls, but he doesn't know exactly where," Phil told her, "No matter, though. We'll soon be back home, hopefully, and you can recite your story to him. I'm sure he'll enjoy you telling him all about how pretty these mountains were…"

"He'll be too busy being happy to see you again," Tabitha smiled, and Phil gave a suppressed snort of a laugh.

He would have made some sort of self-depreciating joke, but he was filled, at that moment, with the returning sensation of dizziness.

The world seemed to spin a bit around him and even though the air was cool, he was still too warm.

Rubbing his eyes and looking down to see where he was putting his feet, he noticed that his shoelaces had come undone, and instead of awkwardly trying to tie them as he walked, he took the opportunity to stop for a while.

"Laces," he stated, simply, "You go on ahead; I'll catch up in a moment."

Tabitha agreed to this and calmly carried on. Her hair was a bit messy and Phil was sure that there was a leaf stuck in the ends, but apart from that, there was no evidence that she had been on a little adventure into the deep woods, through this 'shrub hole' she'd mentioned.

Phil watched her go as he leaned back against a tree behind him and managed to scratch all down his hand on the rough bark. _Why did trees have to be so sharp?_

He knelt to re-tie his laces and sat for a while to steady his vision. Perhaps it was just because it was dark.

He supposed he'd better get back to the tent, tell Dil that his wife was safe and get some more sleep before he inevitably had to help pack everything away in the morning.

He really didn't feel up to the walk back to Willow Creek.

He dizzily started the trek back to camp, regretting not sending Dan out instead of him.

He didn't sleep very well that night.

In fact, he didn't really sleep at all.

This was a stark contrast to all of the Howlters, especially Dab, who woke the next morning well rested and refreshed.

Dan Howell, too, had had a fine night's rest and started his day making a bowl of cereal for Dab. He would have tried making toast again, but of course, they didn't really have any electricity.

He was hoping that he'd be able to see his best friend again today because it felt odd not having him there.

He would have called to ask how things were going, but he didn't wish to interrupt.

Seeing as he didn't know whether everyone would be back home today, he left the blanket fort out, spread over the table. He'd had to leave it out because Dab had opted to sleep there that night, surrounded by pillows and draped in blankets.

The child soon woke up, though, when he heard the sound of cereal being poured.

At least Dan still had _him_ to keep him company.

"Morning," Dan smiled, softly, "Hungry?"

Dab nodded in response and rubbed his eyes as he sleepily stepped out from his pillow cave.

"Do you think that mum and dad will be back today?" He asked.

Dan shrugged,

"Probably," he said, calmly, "I certainly hope so. It'll take a while to pack away the tent and return everything to the ranger, anyway, so they might not be back until after dinner or sometime."

Dab looked OK with this.

It seemed that he didn't really mind his parents being away, as long as he had Dan to spend time with. He wasn't strict, at least, and would happily spend hours talking about anything and everything that Dab could think of.

Quite the opposite to-

"Reckon Phil's alright?"

"Should be," Dan nodded, handing the kid the bowl in his hand, along with a spoon, "If not, we'll soon find out."

* * *

They did, in fact, soon find out, and Dan found that his friend was not _quite_ as alright as he'd assumed.

He'd been standing outside in the fresh air some few hours after dinner and enthusiastically looked up from his phone as he'd heard Dil and Tabitha chatting away and three pairs of footsteps down the street.

Naturally, Phil was the first person whom he greeted, and even though he smiled, he still looked exhausted.

Dil and Tabitha didn't, though, and at hearing their voices, their son came straight out of his blanket fort to meet them.

It was a good job he did, too, because _Dan_ was too pre-occupied to talk to them: he'd pulled his friend into a warm hug and held him there as he practically collapsed. Probably from the walk.

"Are you alright?" He asked, quietly, in a voice 600 times sweeter than sugar.

Phil only gave a murmur of a sleepy 'uh-huh' in reply.

Noticing how warm he was and how flaccid, Dan led him inside and ordered him to get some rest.

"Did you have a nice time?" He asked Dil and Tabitha as he sat down on the sofa, pulled Phil down beside him, and reached to get the blanket from the back of the chair before remembering that it was currently spread over the dining table.

"For the most part, yes, we did," Dil chuckled as Tabitha admired the fort – she didn't seem to mind that her table was a mess – "Everything turned out fine in the end, though," Dil continued, "And I appreciate the helping hand."

Phil probably would have said something along the lines of 'you're welcome' if he hadn't been half-asleep, so instead he averted his eyes to stare out of the window.

"Where did you get to, then?" Dan asked Tabitha, curiously, and saw her face light up.

"Oh! I have to tell you all about it! You _have_ to hear about these mountains…"


	33. FeverDream

Darkness.

Everything was shrouded in darkness.

It was like standing in a black void with only the images that your mind made up to keep you company.

Phil found himself lost in this void, all alone, yet this time, he didn't even have a kind of odd hallucination to accompany him.

He frowned, confusedly, as he focused on nothing in particular.

There wasn't really anything _to_ focus on, actually.

It was dead silent, too, so there wasn't even any sort of sound to hear, either.

Even though it was practically a void around him, Phil still saw the blackness as pulsating, oddly, as if it were alive, yet of course it wasn't and couldn't be.

Phil didn't even feel that confused, he just felt a bit… wibbly.

'Wibbly' was definitely the word he was looking for.

It was after he'd started to relax a bit that he started to hear something, like soft voices talking to each other.

This… void… was beginning to feel more like a room. It started to change shape, becoming narrow and long and even narrower and even longer and the walls started to close in but the infinite length of strange whiteness remained and all sense of perception melted away.

Phil narrowed his eyes and tried to make out the end of the tunnel he was seeing, but it felt more like it was inside his eyes rather than around him.

His thoughts were snapped away from the tunnel as a loud sound burst out of nowhere like cymbals and people yelling violently loud and a train that felt like it was inside his head.

Phil span around, tensely, as some unidentifiable yet huge object, much like a boulder, came crashing out of the darkness and rolled past, seemingly only centimetres from his face.

He stepped back, stunned, but the noise didn't last long, as it suddenly disappeared in a blanket of deafening silence like a vacuum.

Some sort of thin _thing_ sprouted up then as if to try and be of comfort – an innocent flower that grew out of the ground where the boulder had rocketed past – but of course this tiny blade of grass could do nothing to help if that huge object was to return.

Phil sighed, loudly, as a voice appeared and attempted to console him. It sounded familiar, but it wasn't really speaking discernable words, but more alike a mumbling drone.

It didn't help.

It didn't need to, though, as it was at that moment that things started to appear, fading into existence and materialising like a hologram.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief as he saw objects around him.

A proper room of things of which he recognised, fuzzy images of furnishings like sofas and rugs and a purple drinks bar and many chairs of different colours surrounding a white table.

His heart beating furiously, Phil leaned on this table and stared, cynically, at the strange device on top of it. He knew what it was but he also didn't know what it was at the same time.

 _"Why do I even put up with you?"_

Phil swallowed and turned, sharply, to the left where he was met with the hazy of someone he knew very well. They didn't seem pleased with him, or at least from the manner in which they spoke; Phil couldn't really make out a face.

"Dan?" He asked, under his breath, "What are you doing? I thought we were friends-"

He didn't know what he was saying, and it didn't really feel like he was saying it, either. The words just seemed to float out of his mind instead of going out through his mouth.

 _"Clearly not anymore; I've catered to you long enough…"_

Something about this seemed familiar.

Phil didn't really have time to process anything before he was being shoved backwards with what seemed like an unstoppable force into the sharp corner of the table behind him.

"What was that for?" He wheezed, falling to his knees and putting a hand over the right side of his face, even though it didn't really hurt.

It just seemed like it _should_ have hurt.

 _"I'm leaving."_

"Wait! Dan! No!" He whimpered, picking himself up, "You can't just leave me!"

 _"Can't I? Well, that's what I'm doing, so I'll see you around,"_ the figure said, angrily, before storming off to the front door and swinging it open.

Phil's reaction was delayed until it was too late, but, wiping away what might have been either tears or blood, he gave a scared yell of,

"WAIT!"

He panted from exhaustion and bit his lip.

"Come back, Dan, I can't do this on my own… I… I- I NEED you-"

But of course it was too late and he was left on his own again.

He knew what this was; he'd been here before.

 _"My keys. My house keys: I lost them."_

"What?" Phil choked, "Pardon?" And he gazed around to identify the source of the voice.

 _"I'm going to ask everybody, I just came to you first."_

"I haven't seen them. Are you only just coming home?"

 _"Yes,"_ the owner of the voice nodded. They were bleary and yellow as the sun, almost bright enough to burn straight into your eyes. It's too easy dealing with this girl in yellow dress – he'd sorted these problems before and didn't feel up to dealing with them again.

Phil frowned and turned away. He didn't want this right now. It had been a long time since the party and the room was in a mess.

The three queens of painful encounters he envisioned in his mind. It seemed he couldn't find a place to hide.

 _It was all down to people with names begging with E._

Erica.

Eliza.

 _…Esummer?_

There was a fish tank on the table that shattered before his eyes and the water burst out and formed around him, drenching him so every inch was soaked.

Flowers and wine sat beside the shattered glass.

Everything's fine.

Feeling the water run down his spine, Phil stared to the rug and looked at the lines.

The stripes over it pulsated one at a time, growing and shrinking and widening and thinning.

 _It was Outré, certainly._

That seemed familiar, too.

Blinking the water from his eyes, he shakily turned around and searched for anything to be of comfort to him, but found none, so wandered towards the room he'd been sleeping in for the past few nights.

He didn't really walk to it.

The room seemed to come to him, instead.

Not even this place could be of any help as a swelling heat rolled through the air and washed over everything so that any object or wall was hot to the touch.

Phil squinted to the walls that fell away and the floor melted beneath him and he found himself falling, but not really falling, more like floating, that he expected would go on for days and that was something he really had an issue with because he didn't want to stay in the house with all the weird things, but he didn't fancy suffocating, either.

Only, the fall didn't last days, and in actual fact only lasted seconds, until he awoke in a cold sweat, wrapped in a blanket that he could feel rub against his skin and send another wave of sweltering heat over him.

As he flickered his eyes open and his suspicions that he had been dreaming were proved true, he saw a hand fall, gently, beside him, and he reached out to touch but it faded too soon and a feeling of panic set in and he couldn't spit out the words in his head and they only came out in awkward chokes and coughs and wheezes and-

"Da- DAN-" he rasped, eventually, as loud as he could, but even though it was supposed to come out as a cry, it was more on the tone of normal – even if slightly slurred – speech.

Dan seemed to hear him, though, and the hallucinations of the hands he was frantically trying to catch suddenly disappeared and instead a real hand came to rest on his shoulder.

 _"Are you OK?"_ Dan breathed, tiredly, because he'd only just woken up and it was 1AM, but his question was frankly quite a stupid question because Phil didn't _look_ OK, and even semi-conscious Phil _knew_ he didn't look OK.

Before he could answer, he promptly threw up in his mouth, gingerly swallowed it and drew in a long, scratchy breath.

"Co- Cou- you… uh…" he rasped, and he frantically pored over his thoughts to try and find the words he was looking for, "liquid… thing… WATER! Water… and- and- t- tahhh..?"

"Tablets?" Dan suggested, gently, assuming the only thing that really went with water and began with 'ta-', and he received a nod of verification.

He went off to fetch the water and tablets, but not before checking his friend's temperature with two fingers in-between his eyes and finding him to be oddly warm.

He supposed fevers linked closely to psychedelic, hallucinogenic, kaleidoscopic fever dreams, and he would be right.


	34. Oddly Lean

**A/N: So the last chapter was confusing  
Am I sorry? Nooo.  
Though to make up for it, here is some fluff I'm sure you'll enjoy.**

 **On a sidenote, I changed my profile picture which isn't that important but whatever ok bye**

 **~Whisker**

* * *

"Why is the room pulsating?"

"It isn't."

"The door's growing."

"No it's not," Dan sighed, "Just drink the water and try to cool off," and he pulled his feet up onto the seat of the armchair.

He watched Phil shakily raise the glass to his mouth and oddly stare at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Focusing on faces helps," Phil replied, and Dan didn't argue, even though it was slightly awkward staring at someone straight in the eyes.

"Are you feeling any better?" Dan asked, calmly, seeing the soft lamplight reflect off of the fish tank on the table.

"Not really, no," Phil mumbled with a frown.

This was not surprising as it had only been 5 minutes since he woke up.

He'd sat up to steady himself slightly and moved the blanket off him to attempt to cool down. It didn't work that much, but at least it was something.

The water was helping, though.

It's important to stay hydrated.

He bit the rim of the glass in his hand with his pointed teeth and tilted his head to the side, watching as everything in the room went a bit wobbly and funny.

"Did you have a fever-y dream?" Dan asked, putting his chin in his hands and resting his elbows on the arm of the chair.

Phil nodded, thoughtfully. He remembered it vividly and how neon blue and hazy everyone had looked.

He gazed down to the patch of floor where he'd seen Erica, Summer and Eliza in his dream. They certainly weren't there now, which was re-assuring.

He didn't know what he'd do if they were.

Cry, probably. Mostly from confusion.

"Where are you going?" He wheezed as he watched Dan stand up.

"Nowhere," Dan replied, quietly, walking over, "I'm coming to sit with you," and he sat himself down on the sofa.

"Hi, Coming To Sit With You, I'm Phil," Phil rasped with a weak but sly smile.

Dan frowned.

"Really, Phil?" He hissed, "You're supposed to have a temperature, you're not supposed to make dad jokes."

Phil smirked and laughed a strange, wheezing snuffle of a laugh. He stopped and gave a startled yelp, though, as Dan grabbed him around his shoulders and pulled him back into a hug.

 _"Dan! Get off!"_ He coughed, choking on his own breath, partially from laughing and partially from being yanked backwards so fast.

"This is what you get for telling bad jokes, sunshine; don't think you're getting away with this, scot-free," Dan insisted, holding tighter. He was only doing it jokingly, but it turned out to be quite comfy in the end and even Phil stopped fidgeting and finally settled.

"I had a weird flashback to February," he said, leaning back so Dan could rest his chin on his hair.

"Did you?" Dan swallowed, slightly nervously. _Why couldn't Phil just forget about it already? It had been 5 months._

"It wasn't… that bad, I suppose," Phil shrugged, "I'm over it."  
Dan smiled, relieved, and closed his eyes, making sure his friend was snugly wrapped in his arms and couldn't sneakily slip away from him.

He seemed to be dropping back off to sleep, too, even if he was still warm and dizzy, but Dan kept him awake with conversation and occasional nudges.

It wasn't that he didn't want him to sleep, but rather, Dan didn't wish for Phil to wake up again after another kaleidoscopic dream; best to wait until he'd cooled off.

He seemed to be getting slightly better, though.

 _Slightly._

"Do you want to come with me on Sunday to Oasis Springs?"

Dan frowned. He knew what his answer was, but he didn't know how to phrase it.

He knew that Phil didn't really mind Summer or Eliza and was trying to make ends meet and befriend both of them, but Dan wasn't too keen on spending time with either of them.

Then again, he didn't fancy leaving his friend alone with them, either.

He supposed he'd better let him do what was needed, though, and being there probably wouldn't help.

"Not this time," he whispered, softly.

"Why not?" Phil asked. He sounded nervous and probably just wanted Dan there to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

Poor thing.

"I don't think Summer would want me there," Dan explained, "She doesn't like me much. Alright for you, pal: she'd gladly spend hours on end with _you_ …" and his voice seemed to start to break at the end.

Phil raised his head to stare ahead, thoughtfully.

" _Dan_? Are you OK?" He mumbled.

"I- I'm fine, mate," Dan assured him with a firm nod, yet in reality, he was still worried. He knew it was just coffee, and Eliza would be there, too, but he couldn't help but be concerned still.

He decided he should stop being so protective.

Surely nothing could happen.

He still didn't want to go, though.

"Well… you don't have to go, then," Phil said, even if he really wanted the company. He was dreading sitting at a table with Eliza and Summer and trying to make conversation.

As long as nobody like the Landgraabs, Erica or the Goths turned up, he should be alright, he presumed.

Dan wrapped his arms around his strangely thin form even more and swiftly changed the subject to lighter things like what they were going to do now that Dil and Tabitha were home again, and he even managed to get Phil to tell him what happened at Granite Falls.

Though Phil hadn't been that enthusiastic to recite the story.

In fact, he seemed pretty irritated.

It might have just been his temperature, but he was definitely annoyed.

He never seemed happy to talk about _anything_ anymore.

Why did this always happen whenever they came here? Was it something about this particular universe that was giving off a bad vibe?

Whatever it was, Dan had made the decision to never come back once they left. Yet, of course, that meant spending as much time as possible here _this time._

All he'd wanted to do was have a bit of fun with the Howlters after February's fiasco. So much for _that_ idea.

It was when Dan pulled himself from his thoughts and back to reality that he realised that his friend had fallen asleep again, and even though he was still warm and was probably going to have another fever dream, Dan didn't bother to wake him up.


	35. Tender Loving Care

"Morning!"

"Hi," Dan smiled up at Tabitha at the break of dawn that day.

It was still early and he hadn't had much sleep that night, but surprisingly, Dan wasn't that tired.

"How did you sleep?" Tabitha asked, nicely, making conversation as she switched the tea machine on.

"Fine," Dan replied, stretching and giving a small yawn before rubbing his eyes and watching the dust float through the air. The sunlight was shining through the window just right so that every single particle was visible, which put a smile on Dan's face.

He looked up to the sofa where he'd managed to slip away from Phil without waking him.

Dan gazed, fondly, at his friend, who was fast asleep and probably quite cold without a blanket, and remembered their conversations at 1AM.

He decided to get up off the floor where he'd wrapped himself in sheets and cushions that he'd taken out of the blanket fort, and instead went over to talk to Tabitha.

"Did you both wake up at midnight?" Tabitha asked.

"You heard that?" Dan swallowed with a quiet laugh.

"I certainly did," Tabitha nodded, "I fell back asleep after a few minutes, but I did hear talking. I don't mean to be nosy, but were you both alright?"

"Ah, everything's fine," Dan assured her, "I was just making sure Phil was OK. He had a bit of a fever but he should get better today."

Tabitha looked a bit concerned and Dan knew he probably shouldn't have spoken, even if he did sugarcoat it a tremendous amount.

"What do you think caused that, then?" Tabitha asked, pouring two cups of tea.

"Probably the heat… maybe stress… perhaps not eating enough… But probably mostly the heat," Dan shrugged.

"Are you going to stay at home today to look after him, then?"

"He might be fine, I don't know. It's only a fever."

"I know… but I think he deserves some affection after he made the effort to come all the way to Granite Falls out of concern for me, don't you?" Tabitha smiled, thoughtfully, and Dan agreed.

"Though I do know Dab said he wanted to spend today with you," Mrs Howlter continued, "He seems to like you a lot. I can always make sure Phil's comfortable."

"You don't have to do that," Dan stuttered, taken-aback by Tabitha's enthusiastic willingness to express her thanks for yesterday.

"What if I want to?"

"Well, I suppose… As I say, though; he might be fine…"

Phil wasn't fine.

That is unless 'fine' was some sort of abbreviation for 'walking a fine line between perception and unconsciousness' because he was definitely that.

Only, being Phil, it wasn't his plan for the day to be trouble for anyone, and diffidently denied any sort of help or care, which was frankly quite daft because it made his condition much worse.

The only person he accepted any sort of affection from was Dan, but Dab insisted on Dan sitting and drawing with him, so Phil spent the morning fading in and out of reality on the sofa, too warm and too self-conscious to ask for anything, though Tabitha routinely filled up a water glass on the table because it was the only thing Phil would let her do.

At least he wasn't dehydrated.

And whilst he was being miserable, Dan was having a perfectly fine time socialising with Dab – something that Phil had never really done since February – sitting on his bedroom carpet with sheets of paper scattered around them, and countless different colours of crayons and pens, too, strewn about.

Dan took pleasure in staring at the kid's drawings and appreciating how much he'd improved since last time. People actually had noses now, which was always good.

Dab seemed very interested in boats and planes and had drawn a good many of them.

In fact, he was currently in the middle of drawing the paddle steamer that sometimes sailed down the river flowing through Willow Creek.

They'd seen it on their way to Chez Llama on Friday, in fact, and they'd stopped for a while to look at it. Dab had appeared completely captivated by it, whereas Dan just really wanted to carry on walking because the faster they got to the restaurant, the faster they could eat. Phil, too, had seemed to agree with him.

Ever since he'd started acting a bit off, Dan found himself over-analysing every action over the course of the week to try and find the source of the problem. It wasn't a good habit, but the drawing and talking to Dab was doing a good job of taking his mind off it.

"I wanted to go to the park today," Dab hummed as he sketched away, steadily, "Do you think you could come, too?"

Dan lifted his line of sight to look to him and chewed his lip in thought. He would have said yes, but at that very moment, he heard a wheeze of _'I'm fine, I don't need anything, honest,'_ (this statement was most likely false) from the other room and decided that it was probably best if he stayed home to make sure his friend didn't disregard his own well-being too much.

Saying that, what he was already doing was probably too much.

"I think you'd better just go with your dad," Dan replied, "But I could come tomorrow," he added with a smile.

Dab grinned back,

"OK!" He agreed, "I can't wait!"

He really liked Dan and it felt that he'd do almost anything to spend as much time as possible with him.

In fact, the kid didn't seem all that bothered that Phil was laid up having odd mirages and being delusional, as long as he got to hang out with Dan.

Hardly surprising.

Even if _he_ wasn't missing Phil, Dan certainly was.

Even though… he was in the next room… _but that wasn't the point._

Dan put his chin on his left palm for a while to think. Drawing like this on its own wasn't quite entertaining enough. Or at least, he felt that he had to do something to make a contribution to make it more fun, and he'd eyed a sharpie on the bedside table, too.

Which, naturally, could only mean one thing.

Cat whiskers.


	36. Some Sort of New Air

"Does it sound like they're having fun without me?" Phil wheezed, gazing to the door of Dab's bedroom and listening to the muffled laughter from inside.

He was currently leant back on the arm of the sofa, still mildly dizzy and way too warm, with his arms folded behind his head.

He couldn't perceive much of what was happening in the other room because the door was closed, and his hearing had been slightly subdued from his temperature, but he could still tell that neither Dan nor Dab needed him.

Tabitha wasn't one to lie, so she scratched the back of her neck, turned around from where she had been practicing her programming at the computer and heaved an awkward sigh.

"Kind of," she replied.

Phil nodded, slowly and thoughtfully.

"It's not that I care," He put in, as if he needed to justify his asking.

There would be nothing wrong with it if he _did_ care, either, but he did a very good job of convincing himself that he didn't.

"At least you had a great week so far, right?" Dil smiled, nicely, looking around to face Phil, still drying a plate with a slightly damp dishcloth.

Phil gave a sarcastic laugh and closed his eyes. He knew the Howlters had no idea about what had been happening, and he wanted to tell them, but at the same time he also really, really didn't want to tell them.

"Am I wrong?" Dil asked, sounding concerned, and Phil heard the sound of the plate being put away and the cupboard door being shut.

Phil opened one eye slightly, staring across to Dil. He couldn't see his face because he wasn't wearing glasses, but he could tell that Dil was worried.

"I… don't know…" Phil breathed eventually, realising he couldn't remember exactly what had been happening since Friday except Summer's party and shoving the childminding responsibility over to the Pancakes.

"Pretty uneventful," Phil carried on in a hoarse tone.

"Not stressful, then?" Dil hummed.

Phil didn't reply, just averted his eyes, sat up straight, feeling himself go woozy as he did, and put his head in his hands, tiredly.

"I'm taking that as a 'yes, it was very stressful', then?" Tabitha put in. Clearly, she had been listening and watching, too.

"It wasn't… _stressful_ ," Phil stuttered, struggling to find the word he wanted, but eventually gave up, "Dan handled most of looking after Dab. Dab doesn't like me much I don't think."

"What would make you think that?" Tabitha asked, and Phil saw her stand up from the corner of his eye.

He really didn't want to get into a deep and meaningful conversation right now. This was definitely not the time, especially when his mind was so jumbled he couldn't form proper sentences more than 5 words long.

"It's not him, it's me," he said before pausing for a while, "I've been too strict," he explained after a while.

Tabitha's face fell and, without his glasses, Phil couldn't tell whether her expression was one of sympathy or disappointment, so he went for option two.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, looking down to the floor, but even the floor was slightly pulsating still.

"No, don't be. Tell me a bit more; let's talk about it," Tabitha insisted, kindly, taking a seat on the armchair near the front door.

Phil frowned and shook his head,

"You'll have to talk… to Dan about it…" he managed to say, steering himself out of a conversation he really didn't want to have, but as he saw Tabitha start to stand back up again, he hurriedly rushed to add, "No – not now!"

He didn't want to disturb Dan and deprive Dab of his socialising time just so they could talk about their issues. The kid sounded like he was having the time of his life.

"Not as bad as February," Phil added, under his breath, mostly talking to himself, but not realising that Tabitha could hear.

"What about February?" She asked, eyeing the patch of Phil's skin where he'd had a scar on his cheek back in February. It was long gone by now, though, and there wasn't even a hint of a blemish to mark where it had been.

Tabitha had been curious about last time ever since laying eyes on that scar, and she was itching to know what had happened. Dil hadn't seemed too bothered after Dan's half-hearted explanation that he 'accidentally pushed him into the table', but Tabitha had stayed inquisitive.

"Ask Dan about that, too," Phil huffed.

"Why?"

"I…" he stammered, completely conflicted by this simple question, "I… don't want to paint him in a bad light."

Though his response only increased Tabitha's curiosity.

"Did you get into an argument?" She inquired, politely.

"You could put it that way," Phil replied, giving up on hiding anything and instead deciding to tell the truth.

And he was going to put it as blatantly as he could.

"More like a fight, actually," he said, bluntly, "Dan got mad at me. He thought I'd downloaded something… that got us stuck here… he wasn't happy."

Tabitha listened intently and quietly, not wanting to seem like she was judging or assuming that Dan was a bad person. After all, she didn't want to put Phil off reciting the rest of the story.

"He left for a while," Phil swallowed, painfully remembering looking up from the floor and watching his best friend walk away. He'd seen it again in his weird flashback last night, too, and hated to talk about it.

"He went to the park… to think, I believe. He came back eventually, though. It- it's not his fault, though!" He stuttered, hurriedly attempting to justify everything that Dan had done, "It was a misunderstanding, I- we- it's – we're over it- and-"

Noting how flushed he was getting, Tabitha gestured for him to calm down and nodded to the water glass on the table.

Phil shakily took it, unsteadily sipped the smallest amount of water possible and put the cup back down before rubbing his eyes and heaving a sigh.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dil asked, seriously.

"I… didn't want to make it out that Dan was a bad friend," Phil managed to say, honestly, without faltering, "Because he's not, and it was an honest mistake that he made, and we're fine now. But I didn't want to make it seem like we weren't friends and that Dab had been scarred by it and that we'd done a bad job," he swallowed, and before he could go on, he was cut off.

"Phil?"

Looking up, he saw Dan standing by the bathroom door, wiping sharpie off his face with a white flannel, looking a little bit concerned.

"Were you talking about February?" Dan asked, under his breath, and received a nod in reply.

He wandered over, pink marks in his skin where he'd scrubbed off drawn-on cat whiskers, and took a seat on the sofa, putting an arm around Phil's shoulders, reassuringly.

"Guess we had to tell them sometime, right?" He smiled, wanly, and to his surprise, Phil seemed completely fine; only leaned against his shoulder and relaxed a bit.;

"I think you need a cuddl-"

 _"No; don't touch me, don't even think about it..."_ Phil whispered, sitting back up, sharply.

"Light as a feather-" Dan smirked, pulling his friend forward.

"Put me DOWN!" Phil snapped, though he sniggered as he was heaved onto Dan's knees and eventually settled down, his quiet laughter further muffled through Dan's shoulder, the snuggly jumper enveloping him in warmth.

Maybe finally telling the Howlters about February was all that was needed to let it go in the end.

There was an air about that felt a little bit… new. Like this was finally the point where they could forget about _February,_ start again and begin June.

Here goes This Time.


	37. Face the Music

Sunday afternoon in Willow Creek, nearing on 5PM, Potter's Splay, Courtyard Lane.

Oasis Springs was sounding less and less of a good idea as the day went by, and even though they were all unlikely, neither Phil nor Dan could stop chewing over all the different things that could go terribly, terribly wrong.

They didn't talk to each-other about it – which was probably not what they should have done, but oh well – and instead went about their own thing, keeping their thoughts to themselves.

Phil was feeling much better today, but even though he wasn't sweating profusely, the room wasn't growing and shrinking and he wasn't angry at anything in particular, he still couldn't help but be on-edge, and a nauseous feeling followed him about.

How bad could it possibly be, though? Even if anything did go wrong, he was sure he could always-

"Are you OK?"

That was Dan's voice, which came out of the blue, even though he was well aware of the answer.

"I'm alright," Phil replied with a wan smile, leaning back on the dining table. His response was mostly true – nerves weren't going to stop him enjoying being up and off the sofa at last after spending almost all day yesterday there. At least he had Dan to keep him company… when he wasn't entertaining Dab, that is.

"Sure you'll be alright, then?" Dan smiled.

"Of course I will; Eliza will be there to make sure everything goes to plan, anyway," his friend assured him, though he wasn't sure just having Eliza beside him would make much difference.

Though, if it was all that could be done, it would have to do. Dan certainly didn't want to go along and have Summer be all impudent in his face and ruin what was _supposed_ to be Phil making peace with her.

"Last chance to join us?" Phil offered, politely, hoping for the reassuring company of his best friend to keep him from saying something immensely stupid, but Dan only shook his head.

"You _know_ Summer doesn't like me," he reasoned, "I don't want to spoil everything. Sorry, pal, but you're going to have to go solo on this one."

Phil sighed but shrugged, supposing that Dan was right after all.

Of course he was.

"Alright," he agreed at last, and grinned, "As I say, I'll be OK."

He gazed about the room and admired the neatly made sofa, tidy armchair and completely whole fish tank on the coffee table, containing Jonathan the Minnow, who, frankly, Phil was surprised was still alive after all this time.

The house was mostly lit by the lamp in the corner because, as Dan kept insisting, it made the place look cosier.

The light reflected off the rotund fish tank in such a way it was almost abnormal and gave off that feeling of being in some world of imagination wherein everything was uncannily and unrealistically perfect-

"Are you sure you're OK? You look like death."

Phil swallowed, pulling himself back to reality again after his short existential crisis where he had realised that he was, in fact, currently in a fabricated virtual world that shouldn't even be allowed to exist in the first place.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he answered, brushing himself down and willing the colour to come back to his face. Not that he had much colour at the best of times, but hopefully he would look a little less like a cadaver.

"Maybe you should have a lie down before eight," Dan suggested, kindly, "Doesn't have to be on the sofa."

"No, no," Phil chuckled, "I'm definitely fine. Just a touch of an existential crisis."

"Maybe a hug, then?" Dan offered, and, of course, Phil consented and practically threw himself into Dan's arms.

Neither of them really denied hugs when they were here in this weird universe: they needed all of the comfort they could get.

Why did they ever come back here?

Looking after a family of 3 – alongside each other – and keeping together 'friendships' they had made? They should have _known_ that it was too much for them. In fact, they partially _did._

Phil remembered when Dan had come to him to break the news that they were returning after a good four months of recovery. It seemed a great idea at the time. After the stress of moving and the holiday shortly after, it had sounded like a good thing to get away for a bit to a world where nobody would notice they were gone.

Only, being here wasn't much better at all, really.

It'd been OK at first and things only started to go a bit awry after…

Well, after Dil and Tabitha left, really.

Of course it would be. Phil knew that he could never handle that much responsibility and that he shouldn't have taken it all upon his own shoulders. There should have been an arrangement – at least _something_ to equal out the weight – but there hadn't been, and instead Phil had abandoned the idea of rest and relaxation along with spending time in this unique world, and instead decided that conscientiousness and painstaking cleaning was far more important than simply enjoying himself.

Maybe this was all his fault, but somehow feeling how Dan acted to him, he knew it wasn't.

After all, what had Dan done to stop him over-working himself?

Never mind, though: they'd gotten the Howlters back again now and, even though he'd had a bit of a moment and maybe he'd shouted a bit too much, Phil felt that he was finally ready to pull himself together and face the music and maybe dance but no promises because he was still quite tired and that's just a figure of speech anyway.

Though, a touch of swing never hurt anybody.


	38. Attempts to Peace-Make

Oasis Springs was hot.

No, that was an understatement: it was sweltering.

It was also very dusty and Phil had to pull the gauzy orange scarf around his neck over his nose to stop himself breathing it in.

Eliza walked beside him – she hadn't stopped talking the whole journey – but she didn't seem all too bothered by the heat, but maybe that's because she wasn't the one who had only just recovered from a sickening fever.

"Reckon Summer's already waiting for us?" Eliza asked, kindly, trotting along.

Phil shrugged, nonchalantly, and gazed across to where he could see the bar with its tall palm trees outside.

It was called the Rattlesnake Juice Bar and it was probably the smallest building on the row of shops. It had red and white stripy canopies over the windows and a terracotta tiled roof. The brickwork was white and the whole thing seemed to wobble with the hot air.

"I certainly hope so," Phil breathed, regarding Summer waiting for them, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his scarf, "I don't fancy sitting about for ages if she's not."

"Me, too," Eliza agreed.

Even though she was very talkative, Phil didn't find her to be annoying. She was less of a pain than when she used to stalk Dil, anyway. Maybe she was alright after all – perhaps she just needed a friend.

If that was the case, Phil found himself willing to fill that role.

As he and Eliza wandered up onto the porch and pushed open the doors to the bar, feeling as if they were in a Western movie, they found themselves looking straight across the room to the very table where a blonde girl was sat, patiently.

The lights in the room were all set to different colours and Summer was cast in a pink glow, giving a reddish tinge to her clothes and everything around her.

Phil took the time to look around before going up to her, and so quickly took in as much as he could.

The inside walls were white brick and the floor was wooden – sticky, too, from things spilling onto it – to match the top of the bar to the right and the seats of the ornate chairs.

The table Summer had chosen was the only one with 3 chairs exactly, pushed up against the far wall under a menu that was hanging on the wall.

To the left of the door was a counter with a coffee machine and beyond that was a jukebox, facing the couches in the corner, set around a red striped rug.

The whole place smelled of strong cologne and old beer mixed with the bitter scent of coffee beans drifting through the air.

It was even warmer inside than outside and so Phil pulled the scarf back down to around his neck and breathed a long sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat and fixing his glasses so they sat straight.

Summer had noticed him and Eliza by then and was now enthusiastically waving them over, so, preparing themselves, they went to greet her.

"Hi, Summer!" Eliza smiled, though Phil only gave a tiny wave as he sat down opposite Summer, letting Eliza fill up the gap between them (he definitely didn't want to sit right next to Holiday).

"How've you been?" Summer asked them both, though she seemed to be mostly addressing Phil. Of course, she would be.

"I've been good, thanks," Eliza replied.

Phil gave a short laugh,

"Average," he replied, though the truth was probably 'less than average'.

He wasn't about to tell either of them about the fever or finding Tabitha or stressing out over any minor aggravation, so he stuck with 'average'.

"How's being back in town going?" Summer asked, casually, leaning back in her chair a bit.

"Uh…" Phil mumbled, trying to think of a way to describe the week without using the words 'stress', 'chaos', or 'mistake'.

"It's been eventful," he settled eventually, hoping that he hadn't made himself sound too suspicious.

"Looking after Dil and Tabitha's son alright?"

"Dab? Well, yes, I suppose. He seems happy."

"I bet you'd make a great da-"

"Actually, Dan did most of the childminding, I usually just looked after the house. Dan is better at interacting with children than I am, after all."  
Summer seemed to frown at the mention of Dan's name, which frankly wasn't a very great sign.

"How have _you_ been?" Phil inquired, shifting the attention onto Summer before she could ask any more questions that could lead to awkward half-hearted 'explanations'.

"Me?" Summer stuttered, taken-aback, as if she was questioning whether she was being addressed, even though Phil was looking straight at her.

"Yes, you," Phil nodded, "Last time I saw you was the masquerade. Everything been OK since then?"

"Well… yes," Summer replied, "Just the usual – more drama with Travis and Liberty."

"Drama?" Phil repeated, raising an eyebrow. He should have expected Summer to be the sort of character to gossip about drama. She certainly seemed the kind of person.

"Yeah, Liberty's partial to Travis, but I know he likes me more, though she won't admit it, so I'm trying to get her to realise he doesn't want to be with her-" Summer rambled on, quite happily, as Phil and Eliza exchanged knowing glances.

Phil hadn't really been listening to Summer, but he was soon brought back to reality when she leaned her elbows on the table and gave a sly smirk, fluttering her eyelashes like she always did.

"I bet Liberty would like you," she whispered.

Phil couldn't help but make an uncomfortable expression and lean more toward Eliza like he always did to Dan, hoping for some sort of reassurance that he wasn't the only one who had found this statement a bit odd. He felt that Eliza agreed with him, though, even though she didn't say a word.

He really felt he ought to have prepared a script because this peace-making endeavour was going just as he had expected and dreaded.


	39. Razzmatazz

It was occurring to Phil Lester that if you wanted to make friends with somebody, you should probably prepare what you were going to do and say _beforehand._

All that he had done so far was make awkward conversation, give mostly accurate replies to questions about his week, and at one point excuse himself to get coffee, seeing as that was what he was there for.

Mostly depending on Eliza to talk to Summer and let him think wasn't really working out as well as he had hoped, seeing as Summer didn't seem at all interested in Eliza.

Of course she wasn't.

Phil supposed he should have expected it, really. After all, it was _his_ idea that he bring Eliza along, but at least she was good company and seemed to pick up on his uneasiness at times. Perhaps it was a motherly thing – Tabitha did it, too.

Talk of Liberty and Travis had ended swiftly enough, though, thankfully, and they quickly moved onto another subject… only, it wasn't much improvement.

"How are you at dancing?"

This unexpected enquiry was enough to almost make Phil choke on the coffee in his mouth, but he managed to keep it down and instead calmly put his cup back down on the table and slowly raised his eyebrows.

"…Dancing?" He repeated, sceptically.

"Yeah; remember back in February at that house party that Dil threw to see you back home?" Summer grinned.

"How could I forget?"

"We all saw the end. You know, during the swin-"

"Yes, I remember," Phil sighed with a slight frown, "What about the dance?" He asked.

"Well, I was wondering if you could teach me," Summer smirked, tapping her long fingernails on the sticky tabletop and watching Phil look gradually more unnerved.

He went to ask Eliza for help on how to politely say 'no – you're slightly scaring me – I'm not dancing with you', but as he turned to his right, he remembered that Eliza had gone to the bathroom a few seconds ago, leaving him to deal with the situation himself.

Dan wouldn't do this if he was here.

"I don't think… I'm very qualified… as a dance teacher," he stuttered, and he seemed happy with his excuse for a minute.

"You seemed pretty good at the party," Summer replied.

"Dan and I work together quite well. That's what you get when you're best friends with someone for eight years… but anyway, it wasn't my idea – it was Dan's – and it wasn't really a proper dance. We made it up as we went along, I don't think I could do it again, never mind teach anyone," Phil laughed, gingerly, "But if you really wanted to learn, I'm sure there are other people who'd be willing to show you."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Summer said, shaking her head, but she still smiled, "Just thought it'd be a good chance for us to spend some good, friendly time together…" she offered, and Phil could feel himself go red.

Friendly, platonic time together. Right.

"Maybe not this time," Phil answered with an anxious chuckle, "Dancing's not really my forte."

When he'd thought 'a touch of Swing never hurt anybody', he hadn't quite had this in mind. He took his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

9:30.

He'd have to be getting back home soon, he'd promised to be back for 10:15 and the walk back to Willow Creek would take a good amount of time. He wasn't like Dan, he didn't like to leave everything to the last minute, so he decided that as soon as Eliza re-appeared, they should probably make to leave.

"Oh, c'mon, I bet you're great, really!" Summer chirped, snapping him back to reality.

"I-"

"Look, there's a jukebox over there-"

"You know, I really ought to be going soon; the Howlters will be wondering why I'm taking so long if I'm not back by-" Phil started, wringing his hands out, knowing what was coming next, but Summer swiftly cut him off.

"Just a little bop won't kill you," she scoffed, and the song on the jukebox changed to the next record, "Listen, it's jazz! That's close enough to swing, right?"

"Well…"

"Of course it is! Now come on!" And she got to her feet, practically dragging Phil out of the chair and almost knocking over his coffee cup in the process.

"I said I _really_ should-"

"Stop being such a killjoy, Philly. What are you so scared of?"

It wasn't quite the dancing itself that Phil was worried about. Even if he ended up tripping over his own feet, at least Summer would get the point. But it was more the embarrassment of everyone else in the bar seeing him.

But, of course, being who he was, he wasn't about to assert himself, nor politely refuse, even if Summer did just call him 'Philly'.

As the music picked up pace, he started getting little flashbacks to last time, at the house party, and he remembered the awkwardness he'd felt back then, too, when Dan had pulled him away from the rest of the crowd and where he thought that nobody could see them.

This time, though, he felt that he probably wouldn't become more comfortable as they went along. In fact, as Summer took his hands, he determined that it would probably get worse.

Good job the bar wasn't that full today. Though, if it was, nobody would probably really notice him. He couldn't decide which was worse.

At least nobody was sat on the couch that faced the jukebox because they'd get the best view.

There wasn't even that much room, and, being as clumsy as he was, Phil could envision himself tripping over anything in the immediate vicinity, be that a table, his shoelaces or just the floor.

A 'bop', to Summer, was clearly not a dash of a hop, but rather she obviously had some sort of tap dance in mind. Only, Phil didn't quite know _how_ to do any fancy tap dances.

If somebody gave him a mask, a three-point hat and a fancy jacket, however, he probably would have been fine. Somehow anonymity was a great source of confidence.

"You do realise the bartender can see us?" Phil frowned, but Summer looked ecstatic as ever, swinging her arms in time to the beat. She noticed Phil not doing anything, so she took his hand and tried a twirl that half worked but only because she moved on his behalf.

"Look… Summer…" Phil began with a sigh, "I'm not really… in the mood-" and he would have gone on, but right then he saw Eliza emerge from the bathroom doorway and a ray of hope filled his heart.

Good excuse to leave, he thought, so he gave Eliza a look of terrified humiliation and she seemed to pick up on the fact that he wasn't keen on the idea of staying much longer.

"We ought to be going now, I have to be back for 10:15," Phil coughed, addressing both Summer and Eliza, "So sorry, Summer, but I have to leave…"

"Ah, what a shame…" Summer mused, and seemed a tiny bit sad, "Well, have a safe journey home, we'll have to do this again sometime."

Phil gave a shy laugh and put his hand on Eliza's back as she walked past her.

"Yeah…" he nodded, "We will… Maybe we could go to Chez Llama or something. I could bring Dan."

Summer agreed, enthusiastically, but then her face fell.

"Oh, but not Dan," she said, bluntly, "I don't like Dan."

And putting it that straight with no hint of guilt and probably every intention of offending, really wasn't the best thing Summer could have done just then, so Phil gave her only an upfront frown and a very short wave before he and Eliza swiftly left the bar, just in time to hear Summer murmur to herself,

"I thought his name was Don…"


	40. All That Jazz

So this plan to make friends with Summer hadn't worked.

There was always next time, Phil supposed, but it all just seemed too under whelming.

He felt as if it was a bit of a waste of time, actually. That he shouldn't have spent so long worrying about it, and it definitely wasn't worth making himself ill.

Not to worry, though. He was trying to relax and take everything in his stride, so he wasn't about to let an unsuccessful attempt to peace-make faze him.

"That didn't go how you wanted… did it?" Eliza said as she walked beside him into Willow Creek, making their way to Courtyard Lane.

"Not quite," Phil chuckled, nervously, "But there's plenty of time to try again."

"You're going to try again?" Eliza inquired, sounding a tad confused as to why Phil hadn't given up.

"Why not?" Phil shrugged, turning to her.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Eliza sighed, "All she wants is to make Liberty jealous so that she'll leave Travis to Summer. I'm not trying to stop you making friends with her, but I'm just saying… you have to be prepared to have to deal with a lot. Their household always has something going on."

Phil frowned, looking away and instead staring down the road. They were nearing their neighbourhood now – just over the bridge and they'd be there – and the lights from the Howlter's home were visible even from this far away because of how dark it was outside.

Dark and chilly.

"I… don't want to mess this up more than I already have done," Phil swallowed, slipping his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans and shivering in the cold, "I didn't come all this way just to leave again no better than last time."

Eliza stayed silent for a while, thinking.

"Do you regret coming?" She asked.

"I will do if I can't figure out these failed friendships," Phil replied, bluntly. Nothing had really worked out his way so far and he wasn't planning on letting that continue.

"Well as long as you don't stress yourself," Eliza told him as they wandered over the bridge into Courtyard Lane, "Be careful, alright?"

Phil smiled,

"Don't worry – I will. From now on, that is," he assured her, but she didn't look convinced.

"'From now on'?" Eliza repeated, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well…" Phil coughed, "I might have been a bit too strict earlier in the week. Let's just say that if getting yourself accidentally ill was an Olympic sport, I'd get the gold. This week hasn't been all that successful."

"Wow, I'm sorry to hear that…" Eliza murmured, quietly, the only other sound being the chirping of the crickets, "Hopefully you'll be able to get everything sorted, though, right? And you can always come back again after and just have a relaxing time."

"I don't think Dan and I will be coming back again," Phil said in a small voice, "This time was supposed to be relaxing and just look at how that turned out… _Ach_ , sorry, I didn't mean to be all down all of a sudden."

"It's fine," Eliza smiled, "Just remember, if there's anything you need, or if you just need to talk to somebody other than Dan, I'm just across the road, OK?"

Phil grinned and gave a firm nod.

"Thanks, Eliza," he said as they both stopped in the middle of their street, "I'll see you later."

"You, too!" Eliza chuckled, and gave a wave, hurrying back to her door and leaving Phil to wander down the path back home alone.

He tiredly laid his hand on the door handle and pulled it down to open, the catch clicking as he did, and he quietly stepped inside.

"Hey, Dan…" he whispered with a smile, wiping his shoes on the mat and making sure not to wake Dab.

"Philly! How's my best pal?" Dan grinned, getting up off the sofa and enthusiastically walking over to greet his friend with a hug, "How did it go?"

"Just as well as you would think."

"And by that, you mean..?"

"It didn't work," Phil sighed, hanging his head, shamefacedly, as Dan pulled away and instead laid his hands on his shoulders.

"Why, what happened?" Dan asked, appearing surprised.

"Well… Nothing. And that's the whole thing, I think," Phil muttered in reply, "The whole point in going was to try and get across my point and try and make friends with Summer instead of having this strange… not quite friendship… that we have with her. Of course, the only thing she did was sit and talk about her housemates for a while and then drag me away from our table to-"

But he stopped himself to calm down.

"There was a jukebox playing," he continued eventually, "Summer asked if I was any good at dancing. I didn't let her force me into a 'dance', though, and signalled to Eliza that we should leave. I didn't really want to stay much longer after I realised what Summer's whole deal was."

"Which is?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Tired?"

"Yeah… It's quite a long walk there and it was getting pretty cold on the way back."

"You _look_ cold," Dan smiled, fondly, "Here, sit down and I'll get you a blanket."

Blankets could always make things better.

"I just feel like I really try my best to get along with people," Phil mumbled when Dan came back into the room with a soft blanket.

"You do," Dan nodded, wrapping it around his friend.

"But everyone always has a problem with _something_."

"Like what?"

"Well, Erica has problems with everything, Summer refuses to acknowledge discomfort and is only trying to get Liberty envious – I'll tell you about that, too – Eliza is OK, only I think she's realizing it was me who caused the whole freeze-ray bed fire thing… Don't even get me started on Dab and Dil. Everyone's got a problem."

"Hey, now, if you think people dislike you and all that jazz, that's not true," Dan frowned, brushing aside the mention of Dab and Dil and deciding not to ask questions, "You know _I_ lo-"

"Hey, guys!" Came Dil's cheery voice, cutting off Dan's sentence, "Are you both OK?" He asked, seeing Phil's expression and wondering why he needed a blanket. For comfort, perhaps? Comfort from what?

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" he added.

"Oh, no; it's nothing!"


	41. Rainfall

Both trips to this universe, Phil had decided, were a bit like rainfall.

He likened the period where they left to a few months of dry weather and then his and Dan's return he saw as a rapid rainfall.

You see, after a very sudden rain, there's always an air about. Something like refreshment at first and it's very pleasant for a while before you realise you're getting very damp and cold and that you'd prefer it if it was dry again and suddenly everything seemed like a really bad idea.

Of course, the rain doesn't spoil _everything_ , but it makes anything you do less enjoyable because you're very cold and you have teeny streams of water running off every inch of you.

There was always a smell in the air, too. That distinctive scent of freshness and damp mixed into one.

There was a proper word for it but Phil couldn't quite remember it at that moment as he sat, cross-legged on the garden lawn, absent-mindedly staring off into the distance.

Maybe he was over-thinking the rain thing.

It was a nice day outside as per usual and it was so warm he'd only put on a thin, short-sleeved shirt. It was a nice one, too. A very light cream colour with the golden silhouette of an eagle spread between the shoulder and the collar on the right side.

One of the more fun aspects of the trip was getting to choose new clothes to wear from the huge variety available in the game. There was always something interesting.

Phil took his glasses off to clean them on the fringe of his shirt before sliding them back onto his nose and standing up, shakily. His legs were still slightly achy from all the walking he'd had to do last night but he still felt that he wanted to be out in the fresh air.

It was Monday today and Dil and Tabitha had gone back to work, so Phil was left with Dan and Dab. He didn't have much to do, seeing as Dan had volunteered last night to take care of Dab from now on (and the kid didn't need much looking after anyway) and in the time that he was free, he did all the housework, too.

Maybe he was compensating _too_ much for the things he had left Phil to do before, but, honestly, Phil had stopped caring at this point.

After his plans yesterday hadn't worked out and he'd awkwardly had to explain to Dan what had happened, it seemed a lot better. Getting things off your chest was always a good idea, and when you had a friend like Dan who would shower you in hugs and any sort of affection, it just made it _better._

A walk seemed like a good idea, and Phil knew exactly where he ought to go.

Taking Dan would have been nice and all, but then they would have had to bring Dab, too, and he seemed pretty content drawing in his room. Besides, having a child there made it a bit harder to talk about things.

Dab didn't really like Phil anyway.

"Dan?"

"Yeah, pal?" Dan smiled, looking up from the recipe book in front of him.

"I… might go out for a walk," Phil told him, leaning on the doorframe, nonchalantly.

"On your own?"

"Of course."

"You're sure you don't want any company?"

"I'm sure. Thanks, though, Dan."

"Well… alright," Dan smirked, looking back to the worktop where he'd been strategically slicing some fish, "Just be back for dinner, alright? Don't get lost."

Phil laughed, indifferently,

"Ah, don't worry about me," he assured him, "There's plenty of time before dinner. I'm certain I'll be back early if anything. See you in a couple of hours, then?"

Dan nodded,

"Just stay safe," he reminded his notoriously clumsy friend, but by the time he'd finished his sentence, Phil had already slunk out of the door again and out into the fresh air to start the lengthy walk to Magnolia Promenade.

Magnolia Promenade was always a nice place to walk to.

There were shops, too, and even though he didn't like talking to cashiers or risking running into anybody that he knew, Phil thought that they would be useful because he felt that he owed something to his friends and the only way that he could possibly communicate his gratefulness was through heartfelt gifts of appreciation.

In other words, he needed to buy some _stuff._

Dan would have watched him go until he was out of sight (and maybe so that he could laugh if his friend happened to trip over or walk into something or do something really stupid) but today he'd rather focus on cooking.

He wanted to make something really nice for dinner and really hoped that Phil would be back in time so he could give his opinion and so that Dan could be sure that he was actually eating.

Scanning over the recipe book once more, Dan looked for what he was supposed to do next and found that he ought to be slicing onions, which was not his favourite job, due mostly to the smell and the whole crying thing.

Shame that Phil had gone out, really, because Dan fancied having somebody to talk to at that moment, and Dab wasn't really the person to go to if you wanted to have a heartfelt conversation.

And, just as Dan had this thought, who should appear beside him – almost causing a mild heart attack – but Dab Howlter himself.

"Dan," he said, holding his phone in his hand, as he saw Dan jump slightly in surprise, "Can Evan come over for a sleepover?"

"Uh…" Dan started, considering it for a while.

Would having a second child in the house put too much stress on his friend? Phil had only just gotten over everything else; was it really wise to suddenly have yet another life to look after?

Then again… he'd seemed to calm down a whole lot and even having Summer kind-of flirt at him hadn't fazed him all that much and a couple of hugs had solved any hint of anxiety that might still have been there.

How bad could it possibly be?

"Sure!"


	42. Long Haul

Evan Pancakes turned up at the front door almost immediately after Dab excitedly told him he could come. He'd gathered his things, stuffed them in a bag, and bounded across the road to Potter's Splay to rap on the door with his tiny fist.

Dab hurried to answer him and swung open the door, almost knocking over the side table as he nearly ran into it, and an aroma of cooking wafted out of the house and into the open air.

Chicken something-or-other.

Evan quickly came inside – without wiping his feet on the doormat, mind – wearing a wide grin, and immediately started chatting to Dab.

Dan looked up from his phone screen to the children and smiled, contently, glad that Dab had somebody to play with now, and cleared his throat, standing up off the sofa.

"Hey, Evan! I'm Dan; nice to meet you!" He said, reached down to shake the kid's hand (Evan looked worried at first. Probably due to Dan's height) and gave a smirk, "You'll have good, strong hands when you get older, I can tell."

He couldn't tell.

Evan sniggered and Dan let go, wondering whether to say 'I'm joking' or not.

He didn't.

"Dab's told me all about you; you seem really cool!… Are you his uncle or something?" Evan asked.

"More like a family friend," Dan mused, pondering over what relation he actually was. Friend was probably the closest to creator he could get without being confusing and existential, "You'd better take your shoes off, though. Phil wouldn't want muddy footprints on the floorboards. He's such a clean freak nowadays," he said, but still maintained his smile. He also decided not to tell Evan that his existence was his and Phil's fault, either.

The use of the word 'fault' made it seem like a mistake. Dan preferred to see it as a beautiful accident sprouted from a long saga of events that started a very long time ago and that eventually concluded with burning their neighbour's bed. What kind of a life is this?

"Dab's told me about Phil, too," Evan continued as he bent over to take his shoes off, and Dan folded his arms.

"Has he?" He hummed, knowing that this couldn't mean anything too great. Even he'd started to pick up on how much Dab seemed to avoid Phil for apparently no reason. Made him wonder what happens whenever he's not there.

"Yeah, he doesn't seem too fun…" Evan answered, putting his shoes in the corner and wiping up a smear of dirt off the floor with his sock.

"He's not _that_ bad," Dan frowned, defensively, casting a glance to Dab as if to ask 'what have you been saying about my friend?'

He would have said it aloud, only he didn't want to get into anything like that right now, especially not wanting to risk giving Evan the wrong first impression of him.

"He's getting better, right? He's a great guy really, he's just had an awkward few days."

"How about that time he gave me a death glare for leaving my jacket on the sofa?"

"Apart from that time."

"And when-"

"Can we not get into this now? You'll have to talk to him about it yourself."

But Dab made an expression like that was a very bad idea and the conversation ended there.

"Well then, Evan," Dan continued, flicking his fingernails, absent-mindedly, "Get yourself settled in – go play – dinner should be ready in about an hour."

And the children hurried off to Dab's room, Evan trailing his rucksack behind him.

Dan shrugged and wandered back over to the sofa, collapsing into the cushions and picking his phone back up to scroll through the internet for a while.

Hopefully he wouldn't get so distracted that he burned the food because that wouldn't be a good first impression, either.

It hadn't occurred to him before, but it was starting to now, that he hadn't actually gotten Dil and Tabitha's permission to let Evan stay.

Oh well: they'd pretty much given him (and Phil) the authority to decide what the family did – being the creator and all – and besides, the Howlters were such an idealistic family that they'd probably have agreed anyway.

Well – Dan thought – idealistic so long as you can cut out him and Phil from the picture.

Maybe interesting was a better adjective.

* * *

Phil probably wouldn't be bothered about the whole sleepover thing, either, because he wasn't having such a bad time himself.

In fact, he was quite enjoying himself, even if he wished he had someone to walk with.

The route to where he had walked to was engrained in his mind by now from walking to it so many times. It was a pleasant walk, too, even though Phil wasn't generally the type of person to agree to go on a walk, never mind enjoy it, but in this aesthetically pleasing world of cherry blossom trees and green, fresh grass with the scent of whatever that damp smell was, walking wasn't all that horrible of an experience.

Phil was currently sprawled out on a bench in the middle of Magnolia Promenade, facing Paddywhack's Emporium, with a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates laid on top of his chest.

He looked very slightly like a corpse that someone had dumped on a bench and other people had left a memorial for by leaving nice things… on top of him. Which isn't really what you do with memorials, but then again, the corpse is usually underground somewhere.

Moving on.

It was nice and warm in the sun and it would have been easy to fall right asleep there and then, but he really ought to be heading home soon and he also didn't want anybody to actually mistake him for a cadaver (wouldn't be a stretch, considering his skin tone).

Weakly fluttering one eye open, very nearly blinding himself in the light of the sun, he gave a drawn-out yawn.

The walk had done him good, clearly, as he had only just recovered from being absolutely exhausted after he'd moseyed around the shops for a while and spent a good amount of time people-watching.

It was a good job he'd put some money in his pockets before he came out because otherwise it'd be a bit of a wasted journey, though he did get to admire some fancy garden gnomes in the emporium.

Now would probably be the best time to start heading back to Willow Creek if he wanted to be home in time for dinner like Dan had said.

Phil didn't know exactly what time it was but he assumed that it surely couldn't be _too_ late.

He sat up, feeling well-rested and very warm, and shakily got to his feet, making sure to not forget the chocolate and the flowers which had inconveniently dripped all over his shirt.

Furiously trying to dry himself by getting the fringes of the fabric and waving it to get some air to the damp patches, he started walking out of the plaza-type area he'd been hanging around in.

He looked slightly like the one person every town or village has who just goes around talking to themselves and doing random things and who you didn't really want to make eye contact with, but let's be real, that's already _Dil._

The only thing that made him look up from patting the damp parts of his shirt was the sound of his name being called, in a voice that he knew too well.

Thankfully, it was not Summer this time.

"Oh! H- hi, Erica!" Phil smiled, nicely, trying to come across as friendly as he could, "Haven't seen you in a while! How've you been?"

"I've been… good," Erica Pendleton replied, walking over to him, "I think I saw you in Chez Llama last Friday?"

"You certainly did."

"I didn't realise you were back in town."

"Ah, y'know… Dil asked Dan and I to come and help look after Dab whilst he and Tabitha went away for a few days-" Phil explained, and his face fell for a second before he shook his head and righted himself, "-So we complied, of course. It's been going… relatively OK. I'm just glad there's only one of him to look after," he sniggered.

Erica gave a short laugh back and straightened her pastel pink blouse.

"If you're heading home, I wouldn't mind walking with you," she said, "Good to catch up, right?"

Phil tilted his head to the side and straightened his back to stand as tall as possible. Why was Erica being so nice to him all of a sudden?

"Sure," he agreed, though, and started along the path that would lead them back to Willow Creek.

"Who are the flowers for? If you don't mind me asking," Erica asked, not sounding like she really cared if Phil minded or not, "Dan?"

"What would Dan want with flowers?" Phil scoffed, rolling his eyes and deciding not to tell Erica who the flowers were actually for.

"Who else?"

"Dear lady Disdain; are you yet living?" Phil exclaimed, quoting Shakespeare.

What Shakespeare had meant was he couldn't understand how somebody so miserable and incensed could possibly still be living after all this time.

"Is that a quote from somewhere?" Erica asked, very flatly, without any tone to her voice, and Phil smiled and nodded.

He was considering going on but then decided against reciting the whole of Much Ado About Nothing.

* * *

He wandered beside Erica for quite some time, awkwardly making conversation and still wondering why she was being so courteous toward him.

Though, the most important thing on Phil's mind, he found, was worrying that the chocolate would melt and that the flowers would run out of water and that he should really find them something to drink as soon as he got home.

Speaking of home, he'd been walking for a while now and was starting to wonder why he hadn't arrived back yet.

It was then that he looked away from his conversation with Erica and gazed about his surroundings and his face fell and he stopped in his tracks.

"What? What's up with you?" Erica asked, who was still slightly expressionless and still thought that Phil was a touch on the odd side.

Phil didn't reply at first, just started sniggering to himself.

"What?" Erica repeated, but had to wait for Phil to calm down before he could manage to tell her that after all this time of walking-

"I went the wrong way!" He called, spinning on his heels and giving a wave, "Gotta' dash! See you around!" And without really saying anything else he hurried off, his long, gangly legs covering a good amount of ground, and he left Erica standing in the middle of the road, very confused and slightly flustered.

And it'd take Phil twice as long to get home.


	43. Um, Hi?

It was way past mid-day when the door to the Howlter house creaked open and Dan's very exhausted friend walked in, panting from the running and dripping with sweat. He could hear voices talking in another room but he was too tired to concentrate on what they were saying.

He slipped off his shoes, wobbled his way to the kitchen, found a vase (or was it a large glass?) and filled it with water before dropping the bundle of flowers into it, trying his best not to actually drink the plant water.

He took the box of fancy chocolates in his hand and turned around just in time to see Dan standing in front of the art table beside the bathroom door.

"You're late," he said.

Phil's face fell and a feeling of shame washed over him, so he averted his gaze and put his hands behind his back, guiltily.

"Sorry…" he whispered, biting his lip, and heard Dan's footsteps padding toward him, his woollen socks softly brushing against the floorboards.

"I was getting worried about you."

"I… I'm sorry," Phil repeated, but before he could continue, he was being wrapped in what seemed like a tent of warmth from the soft feel of the fabric of the cosy hoodie that enveloped him and the touch of having his friend's face buried in his shoulder.

"I got carried away," he said, swallowing, his mouth dry, "I should have been keeping track of time-"

"It's fine," Dan interrupted, gently patting his back.

Phil opted not to tell him about actually walking in the opposite direction of Willow Creek, but a part of him was still slightly desperate to tell Dan about Erica and how abnormally nice she'd been and how they'd managed to have a proper conversation, but that would have to wait until later.

As Dan pulled away, Phil could step back and gingerly hand over the box in his hands.

"Don't suppose this makes up for it?" He swallowed, but Dan gave a loving smile and a shy laugh.

"What's this for?" He asked, sounding surprised that he had been presented with a gift for seemingly no reason.

"Ah, y'know… uh…" Phil began, trying to think of something specific but eventually settling for 'everything'.

"Thank you..!" Dan breathed, still unreasonably astonished.

Phil would have said something more, but he then realised he could still hear talking from the other room and he looked over Dan's shoulder to Dab's bedroom door to see it slightly open.

"Who's Dab talking to?" He asked, curiously.

"Oh… Yeah… I told him that Evan could come for a sleepover. He looked so excited that I couldn't say no to him," Dan replied, apprehensively, "I was hoping you wouldn't mind, but then I thought you might, but then I couldn't just say I changed my mind…"

He seemed troubled and as if he was expecting some sort of angry argument to spike up out of the blue, for this to be the breaking point that everything was surely leading up to. Phil had done a great job of not actually really snapping too badly so far, and had certainly kept his cool more than Dan had last time, but he definitely couldn't keep it up forever, and a spurt of anger was definitely impending.

Doing something like this – adding stress to the whole thing – without permission… it was just one step over the boarder and Dan regretted it more and more as he went on explaining it.

And the end of it he looked across, on tenterhooks, presuming that he'd suddenly be shoved back, yelled at or both, and he felt it was for a decent reason, too, but to his surprise, Phil only shrugged.

"Ok," he nodded, "I'm sure we can deal with that."

Dan blinked once, twice, thrice, before opening his mouth to speak again,

"You're… fine with that?" He queried, perplexed at the lack of an irate outburst or even an annoyed expression.

Phil nodded again and looked away once more, to the door. He came across as if he was either thinking, deeply, about something, or just completely void of emotion.

"I don't see why I shouldn't be," he said, at length, and Dan breathed a long sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank goodness…" he whispered to himself. He'd been expecting a bit of a fight, but instead received a surprisingly nice shock.

He assumed that it was only OK because the Howlters were finally home, that he had opted to look after Dab to take some weight off Phil's shoulders, and because things were starting to lighten up, and he was mostly right, but it was also partially due to Phil feeling as if he ought to apologise for not asking for or accepting help like he should have done before he inadvertently made himself ill.

He'd never been one to ask for help, show that he was struggling, or seriously talk about how he was feeling. He'd always been the one that people could lean on – a support pillar, if you will – and had to keep up appearing approachable, but in trying to not lose face, he'd done completely the _opposite_ of making himself accessible, to say the least, and now was determined to repair that, no matter how much apologising it took. Agreeing to let people have their fun as long as he had help with looking after responsibilities was the least he could really do.

"Did you think I was going to be mad or something?" He asked, straight-out.

"I wouldn't have been surprised," Dan told him, "I mean, I didn't ask your permission, and it would have been considerate to ask first."

Phil shrugged and gave a short snigger.

"As long as I don't have to do all the work," he warranted, and Dan quickly and earnestly agreed to this.

"Still a shame you missed dinner, though; apparently it was great, as the kids tell me. You should really introduce yourself to Evan," he said, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder blade and leading him forward, slowly, "I don't know what Dab's been saying about you but he might have given him the wrong idea. Best to give off a good first impression, right?"

"Right," Phil concurred, firmly, with a decisive nod. If Dab had been telling his friend things about him that weren't true, it was up to him to set the record straight by being as nice as he could to prove he wasn't whatever it had been said that he was.

Too strict, perhaps? Was that what Dab had been saying? Phil supposed in that case it might be slightly true, but surely what he'd been telling Evan couldn't _all_ be bad, could it?

After all, Phil had given everything to this family. A house, a life, a steady income, a child to Dil and Tabitha, a friend to that child, good, fervent relationships with each other… he'd catered to their every wish just to keep them happy and wasn't about to let being a little bit annoyed shape everything that he was and that he stood for.

Maybe he was over-reacting or over-compensating, but the whole point of being here was to mend friendships and fix problems that he and Dan had left unsolved last time, not to break apart other ones.

Sometimes he sat down and wondered why he'd allowed himself to do this… To himself, to Dan, to everyone else…

Couldn't he have just left everything as it was? Surely it couldn't have been too bad if he'd let everything be after February – maybe he hadn't bonded enough with everyone and perhaps he'd let Summer hold the wrong idea, but that's really all – because this 'fixing up' of things had just seemed to make everything a whole lot worse.

But he brushed these thoughts aside as he remembered his resolve to take everything in his stride from now on and stop all this pining and start doing what he and Dan actually came here for.

Hopefully there would never be a time where 'forget about June' was the new 'forget about February'.

"Hey, guys!" He smiled, softly, pushing open the kid's bedroom door after knocking beforehand.

Dab and Evan both looked up to him from the floor, paper and pens scattered around them, and his heart started beating faster than it should have as he concentrated solely on making a good 'first' impression, not that it was really his first because Dab had probably been giving him a bad name beforehand.

But Evan still smiled up at him, even if Dab didn't.

"So… I'm Phil," Phil continued, stating something extremely obvious, "I don't think we've met before. I'm Dan's housemate."

"Nice to meet you," Evan said, "Dab's told me a lot about you but Mum seems to be your friend so I suppose you can't be that bad."  
Phil could see Dab about to open his mouth to say something but Phil cast a discreetly angry glare his way before he could, silencing him without even having to say anything aloud.

"I'll do my best to make your stay really nice," Phil continued, looking back to Dab with a friendly grin, "If you ever want anything, I'll probably just be cleaning so come and just chat if you like," and he turned to leave, "Have fun!" He smiled before leaving the room.

He heard Dab whisper something to Evan as he walked back into the living room, but decided to pretend he didn't hear what he said.

He decided that for his own sake, really.

He let his gaze wander to his best friend, sat cross-legged on the sofa, and heaved a sigh as he trudged over. Still, he didn't feel like his self-introduction was all that bad. He thought he'd come across quite hospitable, actually, and Evan didn't seem to really mind him.

Unfortunately, even though he didn't want it that way around, Dab was the one that he had to worry about.

Cute, innocent, sweet Dab that he'd loved to pieces _last time._

Realising how much he'd changed and how it was only directed to him, and how he'd messed up so much, sent a whirlpool of thoughts through Phil's mind and he stopped walking, suddenly, to stare into the middle-distance.

He'd messed up so much; how had he managed that? Dab had adored him before, nothing seemed out-of-the-ordinary and he'd never yelled or snapped at him. It was only _now._

Phil remembered how ecstatic the kid had been when he showed up with Dan at the front door that very first day and how his face had lit up, how he'd pulled Phil into a tight hug and how he'd come and interact with him, happily bearing him drawing after drawing after drawing.

Where had everything gone so wrong?

"Phil?" Came Dan's gentle, calm voice as he looked up from his phone screen with a fond, dimpled smile.

He always seemed to know what was up without even having to ask, as if he could read the air like a clearly written, large-print book.

He patted the cushion next to him and waited until his friend sat down before speaking again.

"Don't worry," he assured him with a subtle snicker, "They'll take a lesson from me and love you in the end, so don't you worry about a thing. It'll be _easy_."

Phil gave a laugh and closed his eyes, calmly.

If he managed to piece things together with Dan back in _February_ , he was certain that he could get everything else back on track, no matter how much he'd messed it up.

And that meant with everyone else, too.


	44. Alright, Bye

Dil Howlter had always enjoyed people-watching.

Seeing neighbours and friends go about their days and wondering what their lives were like – wishing he could switch places with them sometimes, even if only for a few hours – was all very fascinating to him.

Perhaps he got it from his creators, but happily sitting and watching the world turn could keep him entertained for a whole day if he should put his attention to it.

Maybe he was just nosy, wanting to know the back story behind people's movements and observing little patterns in their behaviour, but as long as he wasn't harming anybody, he found it perfectly fine. Besides, his creators had the privilege of a bird's-eye-view of the world, snooping into anybody's lives and even controlling them if they so wished; how bad was sitting outside on the lawn compared to that?

He took a sip of his tea and thoughtfully stared down the road.

It was early morning and, seeing as it was Tuesday, he couldn't stay out for long before he had to head to work, so he'd gotten up early especially to spend the time the sun took to rise outside in the fresh air.

He could be quite productive if he wanted to – at least when he didn't have 2 people controlling almost every move.

He kept an eye out for the early risers as he thought, relaxed as could be, leaning back against the wall of his home, underneath his bedroom window.

One of these early risers was Bob Pancakes, who Dil usually gave a little wave to whenever he saw him, though Bob never really seemed at all bothered about anything. Probably what living with Eliza did to you, though he'd seemed to lighten up a little bit since Evan was born.

"Morning!" Dil called as he saw Bob, coffee in hand, wander out of the house in his housecoat to collect the newspaper. He gave a wave back but didn't say anything.

Typical.

Maybe he was just speculating about whether his son would be alright staying in Potter's Splay with his weird neighbours.

He had nothing to worry about, really.

Dan seemed like a good childminder, when Tabitha got home she took care of the children, too, taking a weight off Dan's shoulders, and although Phil didn't really do a whole lot and kept to his own, he felt like the type of person who could set things straight if any disputes happened.

All in all, they were a good team.

Hopefully Dan would be awake before the children this morning, because by the time they sprang out of bed, Dil and Tabitha would both already be at work.

Though, it didn't look like Howell was getting up without a few prods, because he was fast asleep on the sofa where he had been since late last night when he and his friend had drifted off in the middle of half-watching TV in the dim lighting and would probably be exhausted when he woke up.

Dil was sure he'd heard both of them talking last night as he sat in bed, reading beside Tabitha. He'd overheard Dan say something about 'lightening up' and 'it's going fine; don't worry about it', accompanied by Phil's quiet and tired replies, seeming weary, but sometimes a tiny snigger would creep out if ever Dan said anything that amused him, surprise hug-attacked him, or anything along those lines.

They went silent around 4AM, Dil remembered, as he lay in bed, and could only hear the relatively quiet noises coming from the TV.

Everything always seemed quite peaceful when he came home each day, but he couldn't help but wonder what went on whilst he was at work.

Dab would always tell him, happily, about what he'd done with Dan and Evan, but hardly ever mentioned anything about Phil, which led Dil to believe that Phil probably wasn't in the house most of the time, but he was, of course, wrong in that thought – though maybe it was for the best that he _did_ believe it.

As for his own relationship with his creators, he got on very well with Dan – who he shared more common traits with – and would talk most with him when he came back from work, chatting about their days and how things were coming along at the lab, research-wise. Phil, though, he wasn't too sure about. You could never tell what was going on in his head, he didn't say a whole lot, he moved strangely quietly and always looked to be in deep thought, but Dan and Tabitha liked him and he was usually smiling – even if it was a side smirk – so Dil supposed he wasn't anybody to be concerned about. Besides; he'd seen the gaming videos: Phil wouldn't hurt a fly.

Closing his eyes, Dil noticed the sun slowly rising and the air gradually getting warmer. He should probably get dressed and start getting ready to head to work soon.

Mornings like this were always good mornings.

 _All_ mornings were usually good mornings – Dil loved his job and his family and the world he lived in, and found joy in little things like the walk to the lab every weekday – but ones where he got up early and could sit outside in the breeze as he drank his tea were the best ones.

"Hi."

Dil almost jumped at the sudden greeting and sharply turned to the right and stared up to the doorway, where stood Phil.

Of course: appearing out of nowhere as usual.

"Are you… OK?" He asked, huskily, as he normally had a bit of a rasp early in the day. He looked surprised at his unintentional jumpscare, but not as surprised as Dil had been.

"Oh, yeah!" Dil laughed, "I just kinda' zoned out there. Is Dan awake?"

Phil frowned,

"No," he replied, flatly.

Dil had no idea why he frowned, but brushed it off as he usually did.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to go to work?" Phil hummed, raising his eyebrows, "It's about time."

"Yeah, I should, really," Dil agreed, standing up with a nonchalant sigh, "Thanks, mate."

"No problem," Phil said as Dil walked past him into the house, and he flashed a glance over to the Pancakes' house before following his Sim back inside.

It was nice weather as per usual outside and Phil wouldn't have minded staying out, but standing in the middle of the garden path might look a bit unusual to… the untrained eye.

"You'll both be OK again, then?" Dil smiled to him as he closed the front door as quietly as he could to make sure he wouldn't wake Dan, who was still dead to the world, hopefully not dribbling on the sofa cushions.

"Definitely," Phil replied, flatly, because he knew that he wouldn't be doing much work and would probably be ignored again if he so much as _tried_ to help.

The most interaction he'd gotten with either of the kids was when Evan came to him, asking about dog facts, and that was only because Dan had told him to ask – seeing as Phil was usually the one with the useless animal facts stored in his head – and so he did.

Not that he minded; he quite liked having time to himself. He only wished that when he attempted to do anything, he wasn't pushed aside, because that was happening a whole lot.

He stood back as Dil got ready, ate breakfast and engaged in random conversation that wasn't very involved, before he said goodbye and walked out of the door to make sure he was early enough to take time to think and appreciate his surroundings on his way to work.

And so Phil spent the early hours of his morning stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring ahead and contemplating just about anything that came into mind.

Dan had told him last night (or rather, very, very early today) that he was doing rather well in taking everything as it came (all in his stride, as it were) and he was determined to keep things that way.

He averted his eyes over to his best friend, still asleep on the sofa, and smiled to himself.

He was proud of himself. Even if he was ignored by some people, he hadn't let that drag him down, and so he set about making breakfast for the rest of the family.

After all, they were _his_ family and it was his obligation to take care of them… even if the majority of them pushed him aside sometimes.


	45. Halcyon

It would have been as great of a morning for Tabitha Howlter as it had been for her husband today… if only she hadn't over-slept.

She had woken to a slightly different light flooding through the bedroom window and had immediately sat up, the sheets falling off her as she did, knowing without even checking the clock that this was not her usual waking time.

As quickly as she could, she sprang to her feet, got dressed and bounded into the front room where she almost tripped over her own feet trying to get to the kitchen, looking up as she skidded to a halt in front of the breakfast bar where Phil stared down at her in what seemed like complete shock at her sudden emergence.

And this is where they stood now, maintaining prolonged and confused eye contact until it became increasingly awkward.

"Morning," Phil said, eventually, and Dan lifted his head from his shoulder where, by the looks of it, he had fallen back asleep in the middle of giving his friend a hug from behind.

"You're up early," Tabitha observed.

"Dil was up even earlier," Phil replied, peacefully, "Why are _you_ in such a rush?"

"I over-slept," Tabitha replied after clearing her throat, "Don't have much time to get to work-"  
Phil gave a short, sharp laugh and Dan flinched at the sudden movement of his shoulders and quickly let go of him.

"You have plenty of time," Phil smiled, softly.

"It's half nine."

"Oh, what; really?" He yelped in surprise, "In that case, you'd better be going!"

"That's what I was doing," Tabitha said, "No time for breakfast – I've gotta' dash!" She snickered and said her goodbyes before hurrying out of the door.

And after that abrupt departure, she raced along the street to try and get to work as quickly as she could – computers don't just program themselves – and left everyone else in the house a little bit confused.

Her son and his friend had woken up by then and were currently talking between themselves. It wouldn't be too long until they came bounding into the kitchen in search of food to ease their rumbling stomachs.

Of course, they'd certainly find something to eat, because Dan, too, had been helping to make enough bacon, sausages, toast and eggs for them, though he assumed Phil would rather settle for cereal… if anything.

Dab was the first to step through the door, and Dan could see his friend go pale as the thought of a relaxing morning drained away and he was instead confronted with the harsh reality of responsibilities.

He still hadn't really gotten the hang of childcare.

Dan put a hand on his shoulder as if to say 'don't worry; I'll do most of the work' but of course hands can't speak and so this slight touch did not really do anything to help in any way whatsoever.

It had been a relief when Dil and Tabitha finally came home and they could take a rest from looking after Dab, but now that it was Monday, the Howlters had gone back to work again.

And not only that, but they also had a second child in the house to deal with now, and even though Evan didn't seem to really be much of a bother, even just having an extra mouth to feed and another person to entertain was enough.

Though, Dan was doing quite a good job of keeping the kids busy, even if Phil didn't.

He'd tell them stories, suggest things for them to do and other things like that.

Today, he'd had the idea of taking both Dab and Evan to the park because it was nice and sunny and warm today.

As Dan remembered, it was Saturday when Dab had wanted to go to the park with him, but seeing as Phil was laid up and busy feeling sorry for himself, Dan had opted to stay at home.

Dil had taken Dab out instead, but the kid still insisted that he wanted to go with Dan sometime.

This persisting gave Dan a feeling of pride and joy, knowing that he'd done well enough with his responsibilities of childminding that even the Dab wanted to spend time with him and actively suggested bonding activities.

If only he'd suggest bonding with… someone else.

No matter, though; Dan supposed he could always drag Phil down to the park, too, to try and get him to interact a bit more.

He looked up as he had this thought and smiled at his friend, giving him an extremely brief hug around his waist before turning around and finishing the cooking, leaving Phil looking mid way between being confused, unimpressed and worried.

The two children energetically came running into the kitchen, and Dan heard Phil heave a sigh at the realisation that the day was now beginning and 12 hours of work lay ahead.

They'd get through it, though; they always endured through these situations.

"Hey, Dan!" Dab grinned, the ears on his bunny slippers wobbling as he walked across the kitchen tiles, "What are you making for breakfast?" He asked.

Dan listed off the things he was making, and Evan and Dab listened intently, their little mouths watering.

Phil looked over his shoulder at them and rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't get any 'good morning' or even a brief 'hi'.

He, very brashly and purposefully, flicked on the tea machine, opened the cupboard, fetched as much cutlery as was needed and set about laying the table.

He'd been fine up until the kids woke up.

Though today, as he was setting the table, he made the resolve to stay positive. The last time he'd done that was when he was trying to accept the fact that making friends with Summer was going to take a while, and he'd accomplished it pretty well, so he assumed that today would be no different.

After all, how hard could it be to socialise with _children?_

(Actually, it was relatively hard, as he was soon to find out, but we'll get into that.)

"Sleep well?" He asked, out of the blue, turning about and slipping his hands into his trouser pockets, mostly directing the question to Dab, but only Evan looked up at him.

"Yes, thanks!" He smiled, but Dab only gave an unenthused nod, too busy fantasizing about food, of which he was busy watching as he sat on the tiles in front of the oven.

He was probably getting a very warm face.

Phil tilted his head to the side, watched Dan butter some bread for a bit, drew in a long breath, smelling the aroma of cooking, and rocked backwards and forwards on his feet.

"Why don't you two sit down?" He suggested, and Evan obediently did so, choosing the green chair at the table.

Dab didn't move from his spot by the oven, but Phil didn't allow him to stay there much longer, especially considering that he was in the way and sitting next to ovens (above all, ones in _this_ house) wasn't usually the best idea.

"That means you, too, Dab."

It was only after Dan stopped and told him to get off the floor that Dab actually moved, taking the red seat opposite his friend and waiting there with his hands on the tabletop.

Phil rubbed his dry hands together, chewed his lip, wondered why Dab was only listening to Dan, and decided to take the time to get to the bottom of the reason.

Himself from a few days ago wouldn't have done this – he would have given a fed-up frown, accepted the fact that nobody would recognize his authority, left it at that and not mention it again – but now, he put the effort into figuring things out.

Dan noticed this change in temperament, too.

He'd learned to recognise a lot in mannerisms and body language within almost 9 years of friendship, and he felt that the air was somewhat different, and that was something he was glad of.

He caught a glimpse of eye contact and held it, giving Phil a fond smile, the dimples at the side of his mouth showing up and forming his freckles into little patterns that looked as if they'd make some sort of a picture if you got a pen and connected them all.

Every little thing today was going to be a-OK, and he felt as if both he and his best friend could tell it.


	46. Out in the Sun

**A/N: Sorry I haven't uploaded in ages, I've had like the worst writer's block and even though I have plans for future chapters, I have no clue what I'm doing for these current ones. So... y'know... this one's a bit... rubbish  
nEvER mInD, RiGhT?**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

Going to the park with his housemate and two children of which were not his own was not Phil's idea of a good day.

Dan had told him about his plans, standing away from the breakfast table as both of the children ate, so they couldn't be heard.

It had been Dan's idea for all four of them to go together, but seeing the expression on his friend's face told him that he might have to reconsider.

Phil looked across to him, his head tilted slightly to the side, with an air that Dan could read like a book.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, "Should have anticipated that you didn't want to come, shouldn't I? But look at it this way: the more time you try and spend with Dab, the more he's probable to actually like you… No, don't give me that look, Phil, you know it's true."

"I don't think I'd get much chance to spend time with him, even if I did come along," Phil frowned, "He'll be too occupied with playing with Evan, and if he needs anything, he'll ask you."

But then he gave a wan smile, the dark circles under his eyes showing up even more,

"But don't let me spoil your fun," he said, kindly, "After all, someone has to look after the house."

"The house isn't going to burn down, get broken into, explode, or anything else that you might care to think of. You're coming to the park with us; you need the fresh air," Dan decided, and received no altercation, so wandered over to the table to talk to Evan and Dab.

Even though he hadn't made an argument, Phil still sighed behind Dan's back. Fixing things wasn't that easy, and sitting in a park, on a bench, not doing anything, was probably the _worst_ solution to the problem annoying him.

What would sitting in the _park_ do?

Phil supposed that Dan had a plan, but whatever it was, he didn't trust it, which wasn't saying much, because he didn't really fully trust anything anymore.

Nothing he could say now, though, he supposed, as he had already involuntarily agreed to it.

So he stood and stared over to Dan and the two children with a tired expression.

He was trying to be as positive as he could, but he couldn't help but notice how happy Dab and Evan looked whenever Dan started talking to them. Quite the polar opposite to how they acted with Phil, who was only trying to help, and was very confused as to what on earth he'd done wrong.

He couldn't really think of anything that he'd done at any particular moment in time that would make Dab dislike him, and he couldn't even think of a particular point at which it started. His only guess was that it was after he'd gotten annoyed and stressed out about the broken fishbowl the day Dil and Tabitha were meant to be coming home, but even after then, it didn't seem too bad. It was more after he returned from Granite Falls that it started.

He was suspicious, sure, but didn't care all that much because, in his eyes, there was nothing he could really do about it now.

And it was odd.

It wasn't quite that Dab outwardly slighted him, but he ignored him, didn't listen, didn't _care_ , and it was obvious and presumably everyone could tell.

He wanted to talk to Dan about it – he really did – and he'd tried, too, last night. But all Dan had done or could do was coddle him and tell him they'd figure something out eventually, and change the subject over to something more light-hearted.

It had worked a bit, too, for that night at least. But even though Phil appreciated the affection and knew Dan was only trying to help, it didn't really fix the underlying problem.

No matter, though. Dan seemed to be having a relatively nice week, and Phil wasn't about to spoil it or him… though these 'suggestions' that Dan was coming up with were never going to work, and both of them knew it.

Evan and Dab seemed in high spirits about the idea, though. Of course they would – they were happy with _anything_ Dan suggested. They wouldn't be _half_ as ecstatic if it was _Phil's_ idea.

But still, Phil managed a smile just seeing their faces.

He had always had a quite traditional side, and if Dab was his child, this wouldn't have gone on for so long.

He shrugged.

Never mind.

Perhaps the park wouldn't be so bad after all. Besides, he needed to get out in the sun.

He watched the kids hurriedly finish their breakfast and hurry off to go and get their shoes on.

"Why does going outside excite them so much?" Phil chuckled, and Dan was genuinely surprised he was laughing.

"Well, it's lovely outside," Dan smiled, "Nice weather, great scenery – I mean, have you seen those trees?"

Phil had to admit it was pretty nice. It would be great for taking photos, but he still couldn't let anybody know he was here.

Every time he remembered that this wasn't the real world, and shouldn't be allowed to exist because physics are… a thing, his heart would do a little flippy-over thing which didn't happen a lot, and he'd start questioning his entire being and everything he'd ever known.

He attempted to not think about it too much, as existential crisis weren't quite what he wanted to fill the empty space in his mind with when he had nothing better to think of.

Still, he couldn't help the occasional occurrence, and neither could Dan, being prone to that sort of thing.

It wasn't long before they, too, had to get ready and troop out of the door, hoping that everything would go well.

Which it probably wouldn't, but they still kept their heads up because negativity and cynicism never got anyone anywhere besides trouble.


	47. Musings

**A/N: SO. I just thought I could take the time to thank a certain Spyder-Pig for their really amazing review on Outre. Really improved my day. Thank u. Very good. Yes.  
**

 **OK yes you can read the chapter now. It's an OK chapter.**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

Well.

Nothing new.

Cherry blossom trees had lost their appeal a long time ago, and emerald green grass was just the norm now. Flowers in bloom you see every day and crystal-clear water flowing down an ornate fountain was only a decoration to walk around.

Magnolia Blossom Park had once been a place of extra-ordinary beauty with its glistening lake and tall, tall, trees, but now it was just an area to sit when you were bored.

The sunsets and sunrises here were amazing, but eventually you could become numb to them when you had lost interest in admiring and appreciating the little things.

Still, the atmosphere, sights and smells gave way for a little contemplation.

The park held a lot of memories, as has probably been mentioned before, some good, some not so good, but all very vivid.

It was the first place they visited after first introducing themselves to Dil back in February, it was where they had met Eliza, it was where they'd walked to on the first day of re-visiting, but most importantly, it was where Dan had hidden away to brood after the 'thing' happened, and that was one memory he'd remember for a _long_ time.

He wouldn't forget wandering down in the dark, still irate, wanting to punch something in his anger.

He'd skulked down the path to the river and thrown himself down on one of the benches, putting his head in his hands and moping.

He didn't even understand why he was so angry, really, or at least not at that point. He'd gritted his teeth, fuelled his annoyance by pondering all the things back home he'd supposedly never see again, and mumbled things to himself about his friend that he didn't really mean, but he thought he did.

Dan sighed as he remembered the moment his heart had dropped like a brick as his memories drained back and he'd realised what a huge mistake he'd made.

He'd wasted no time in hurrying back to Potter's Splay, but when he'd received no reply to his knock, he hadn't used his head and waited, but rather fallen into a dark mood again and gone back to his little bench in 'Memory Lane'.

He spent his time picking blades of grass from the soil, sitting alone with his thoughts until he eventually fell asleep, though by that time it was already morning.

One good thing about it was that it gave him some space to think.

But that was probably the _only_ good thing.

He'd gone back to Potter's Splay eventually, accompanied by his best friend, of course, but he supposed he never really forgave himself until he knew for sure that Phil did.

The guilt had worn off quite easily after that, and last night they'd both had a long chat and were even able to have a little laugh about it.

If only they were able to laugh about whatever was going on now, but they were both too confused about whatever it was that they couldn't really process how to react to it at all.

It was best to live in the moment at this point in their little journey, so they both sat beside each-other on a park bench and watched Dab and Evan play around on the pirate ship opposite them.

It was tranquil in one sense, but also very tense in another.

The sun shone down bright onto them and the clouds overhead were thin and few, hardly doing anything to dim the light.

The air was warm but crisp and clear and everything was just _too_ perfect, it was unnerving.

Dan heaved a sigh but managed a smile as he saw what a good time the children were having.

He'd done quite a good job of looking after them. He'd made the meals they liked, suggested fun things for them to do, enthusiastically talked to them about things they liked, asked them about their interests and told them stories and tales from the world 'above'.

But he supposed the one person he hadn't really been looking after was the one right beside him, who would never admit that he needed any help at all, who took too much responsibility upon his own shoulders for some reason of which he probably didn't even know himself.

"You OK there?"

Phil turned to him, almost surprised at this sudden question after a long period of silence beforehand. But he smiled nonetheless and nodded, assuredly.

"Sure?" Dan asked again, and received another nod.

He smiled, softly, his dimples showing, and flickered his eyes over his friend's pale face.

After everything that had been going on, Dan wasn't surprised to find dark rims around Phil's slightly dulled eyes and hardly any colour whatsoever to his skin, as if his blood was just too exhausted to circulate anymore.

Dan brushed a stray strand of raven-black hair out of his face and fixed his glasses before standing up.

"Where are you going?" Phil inquired, quizzically.

Dan held his forefinger up to indicate he'd be back in a second, and wandered over to Evan and Dab.

Phil watched, but couldn't hear his words, as he said something to them both, happily, and then returned to the bench.

"Coming?" He asked, standing in front of Phil and gazing down at him.

Phil nodded, even though he had no idea where they were going, and stood up, unsteadily, his thin legs shaking.

Dan took him gently by the hand and led him away, across the grass, past a tall cherry blossom tree and onto a dirt path.

Phil knew exactly where this went.

"We're going to the lake?" He asked.

"Yep," Dan affirmed as they strolled under a huge oak tree, nearing a wooden fence, further down Memory Lane.

Phil didn't bother to ask why they were heading down here and instead assumed that it was just a pleasant walk, taking the time to admire the scenery. He didn't really go down this path.

"I thought… I could show you where I went back in February," Dan explained, even though nobody had asked him to.

"Are you trying to guilt-trip me?" Phil frowned, flatly, and Dan jumped back in surprise.

"What? No!" He yelped, "It wasn't your fault; it was never your fault…"

"O- Okay," Phil swallowed, lifting his gaze to see that they were already at the river.

Its water glimmered in the shining sun and it was easy to see big, silver fish swimming about, merrily, around the surface, having the time of their lives without worry or concern.

There were tables dotted about the grass and Phil noted the one nearest the water. It sat on its own, quite removed from the others, and he found himself quite taken to it.

He slipped out of Dan's grip, and his friend watched him wander over with his hands in his pockets, studying the wood grain.

There were tiny indents all over the top of the table as if it had been stabbed with a sharp stick, and then in the middle of it, there was one word messily scratched into it.

It was a tad faint but still some letters were just about clear enough to make out.

Phil could see an S, an O, an R, what he could only guess was another R and then a very thin and spindly Y.

His heart skipped a beat – or maybe three – and he span back around, lifting his eyes to meet Dan's gaze.

"It wasn't nice," Dan stated, blankly, with a shrug.

"No kidding?" Phil scoffed, nudging the ground with the toe of his shoe.

"I wasn't even mad at you," Dan carried on, "It was more at myself…"

Phil felt like telling him that he'd said the same thing many times now, but decided to stay quiet because it sounded like Dan was about to make a point.

"And… I think that I stopped being angry with you… because I kept repeating one thing to myself," Dan smiled, moving to stand beside the table, too, "I kept telling myself… 'This isn't my life. This world… isn't real; the people _in it_ aren't real. When we leave, none of this will matter. Issues with people here are easy to fix, and when we find out how, we can leave straight away. But one thing that will _always_ be real…" and here he paused and laid a very gentle hand on his friend's shoulder, "…Is _you_."

Phil swallowed the lump forming in his throat and his dry eyes started to sting from the salty tears starting to form in them.

"I think that's the nicest thing you've said in months," he breathed.

"OK, stop it," Dan whispered, wrapping him in his arms, but he still smiled slightly, "Don't do the- the tears thing. Don't do that. Stop," and he pulled away,"Just… remember that this isn't our world, we can go home whenever we like, and if we work together, we can get through these little problems we made. Alright?"

"Alright," Phil grinned with that side-smile he always had when he was genuinely smiling.

But even if he thought to himself that he would be able to calm his temper if anything went wrong, or that he could keep himself together from now on, saying things is a whole lot easier than doing.


	48. Heartstrings

**A/N: Oh man; sorry this chapter's so short. I have the worst writer's block, I can't even- I just- UGGGHHHH.  
Excuse me whilst I sit in the dark now and watch the new gaming video and be sad that I can't write.  
**

 **-Whisker** **  
**

* * *

Evan Pancakes was of mixed opinion about his friend's childminders. He didn't really know _what_ to think.

Firstly, there was Dan; he was lovely: he was fun and happy, would do whatever you liked and was always there with a smile if you needed any help. Evan found him very cool and even just yesterday, Dan had looked at scoured the Internet with them, searching for some good memes, and introduced them to his YouTube channel.

Cool, dark, deep-thinking Dan, who dressed in all-black and could trail off into a long essay of an intellectual reply, and who had a large vocabulary of which he used very well. Most of the time. But even under this blasé and somewhat offhand first appearance, he was very warm-hearted, loving and tender, as shown by his interactions with his housemate.

Evan could just about see them coming down the path as he stood at the highest point of the pirate ship: the crow's nest.

He looked to them with his hand shielding his eyes from the glaring sun.

"Here come sharks, Captain!" He called to Dab, who was having a great time at the other end of the boat, turning the great, creaky wheel and pretending to fire the cannons.

"We can fight them off, don't worry, me hearty!" Dab grinned, "Man the cannons!"

So Evan hurried down the steps from the crow's nest and bounded over to the cannons, waiting for Phil and Dan to walk by.

He saw that Phil was wearing a soft smile for once and Evan wondered what Dan had said to make him so happy.

It was odd to see him genuinely happy – he'd usually wear a sort of strained sort of smile that you could see right through, but today it was authentic.

Evan didn't know how to feel about Phil.

On one hand, he seemed OK, even if a bit strict and tired, but on the other hand, Dab really didn't like him, and Evan knew there had to be something behind that, but he hadn't really wanted to ask.

He could guess at what it was, though. Phil was always quite serious, slightly confused, and had a sharp look in his wide eyes.

His gaze would follow you around the room, and even if you weren't facing him, you would always be able to feel his biting, piercing eyes watching with an air that could only be described as a mix of fear and suspicion.

Until you looked at him kindly, that is, then he'd flash that strained smile and wring his hands and kind-of disappear.

The only time he'd relax was at night when everyone else was in bed and everything in the house was perfect, and Evan knew this because he'd peered out of Dab's bedroom door the night before when he couldn't sleep and things had altogether gained a different type of feel.

He didn't know what was wrong, and he didn't know why, but he knew that Dan knew, and that Dab did, and he was just about ready to ask one of them.

"FIRE!"

That was Dab signalling to him to 'fire' the mortars, which really meant wave the huge wooden canon about in the general direction of someone and make some explosive sound effects to go with it.

'Ka-boom' was a good one.

Evan merrily did as 'Captain Dab' had instructed and fired his canon in Dan's direction.

Of course, Dan noticed, put his hands together to a point in front of him and – humming the _Jaws_ theme tune as he went – glided over in his shark impression, popping up in front of Evan and making a sort of loud 'WROAR' sound.

Evan laughed,

"Sharks don't roar, Dan," he snickered.

"Oh, yeah… They don't, do they?" Dan breathed, scratching the back of his neck, "I'd make a _bad_ shark…"

Phil had frozen during this whole exchange, his entire form going rigid, but he seemed to loosen up after this last part and give a smile. Not altogether forced, but still a tad lacklustre.

"Anyway, we gotta' head home soon, guys," Dan continued, a touch regrettably, not really wanting to spoil their fun, "Need to get home for dinner and all that."

"Awwwww, do we _have_ to?" Dab complained.

"Ten minutes," Dan sighed, but grinned as he saw the kids' faces light up, and he headed back over to his friend.

He'd known that the park would be a good idea.

Seeing Dab and Evan happy was fine enough, but seeing his best friend happy for once was the icing on the cake. He'd missed seeing that smile; it was a contagious smile, one that tugged on your heartstrings.

He'd see it a lot at home. Not that much here. Getting a grin out of him was a feat and so Mission Park was now automatically classed as a success.

Whether the rest of the day would be a success, however, would be decided by the test of time, and Dan had a sneaky suspicion that it wouldn't be.


	49. How to Know You're Home

"Now, remember to take your shoes off when you get inside. I don't want to be frantically cleaning the whole floor before Dil and Tabitha get back. That'd be the second time this week."

"Yeah, yeah, Phil, I know."

Phil folded his arms and closed his eyes a little from the sun as he strolled along, in the middle of Dab, Evan and Dan, down Courtyard Lane.

"That's _uncle_ Phil to you, thank you very much," he corrected Dab, matter-of-factly, bending his back slightly.

Dab rolled his eyes and both Phil and Dan frowned slightly.

 _'I don't need your attitude,'_ Phil thought, but managed to control himself and not open his mouth to speak, instead bottling up this thought with all of the others in the back of his throat.

They were almost home and it was almost time for dinner. The kids seemed in a good mood and Phil wasn't about to spoil it. Not that they'd take much notice of him anyway, they'd probably just shrug him off and continue to do as they pleased until Dan told them otherwise.

Staying on the positive side, Phil decided it wasn't _all_ that bad, and at least he had a good amount of time to himself, seeing as nobody would ever come and talk to him except Tabitha, and Dan at nights.

Maybe _too_ much time to himself – a tad too much time to think a tad too deeply.

 _"Aren't you going to say anything?"_ Dan asked in a whisper, tapping his friend on the shoulder.

" _Why?"_

" _Well, for rolling his eyes at you like that. You're supposed to be authoritative, remember?"_

Phil smiled and sniggered slightly at this, but didn't reply, nor do anything to correct Dab – or Evan, for that matter, who had quietly laughed in a sort of support of Dab – only continued to walk along at a steady pace, rounding the corner to walk up the path to Potter's Splay.

It was always a good feeling to be home.

He'd always thought about how the park had memories, or Chez Llama, or the museum, but it was definitely the house that held the most memories of them all.

It was where many things had happened and many things were bound to happen.

To name a few: it was where they first met Dil, where they'd slept and have been sleeping, where The Thing That Shall Not be Named happened, where many… _interesting_ conversations had taken place, where Erica had tried to kidnap toddler Dab, and other things, too; as always, some good and some definitely not good.

The clicking of the key in the lock was always a nice sound, though, and the greeting of warm air when you stepped inside was even better.

Every house has a certain smell that you can always sense in other people's homes but never in yours. It's kind of like a way to tell if you've really settled into a place – when you stop smelling the smell.

Both Phil and Dan had stopped smelling the smell of Potter's Splay a very long time ago. It wasn't very surprising; after all, _they_ built it, it was like a second home to them, even if they did have to sleep on the sofa most of the time.

"Home sweet home."  
Dan said this a whole lot sometimes when they walked through the door, as if nobody around him knew where they were and had to be informed poetically.

Another thing about home is who you share it with, and it's a very cheesy thing to say, but it's true. When you've lived with someone for quite a while and you stay somewhere new with that person, you're without a doubt that that place, wherever it is, is where you belong.

It was and had been easy to make a cosy abode from this house, even if it be in a completely different universe to the accustomed one.

There was something about the house, too, that was reminiscent of the old flat back in London. Quirky decorations, multi-coloured dining chairs and cosy, creased settees.

Settling in had never been hard. Not at first, at least. As the days went on, being in the house started to seem like less of a good idea; without distractions, there was a lot of time to think and let thoughts and doubts whirr in your head constantly.

"Are you alright there?"

"Of course," Phil assured Dan, with a smile, because 'alright' was a different thing to 'very well', and he was certainly alright.

Dan paused and cocked his head as if he were studying his friend very closely, searching every inch of him for a hint of him maybe not being as fine as he said he was.

"Would you like me to cook today?" Phil offered, feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable, hearing the sound of Dab and Evan talking in the other room. He had a feeling they hadn't taken their shoes off like he'd said.

"I… I actually thought that maybe you could try and socialise with the kids today," Dan told him, thoughtfully, but was only answered with a suppressed snort of a laugh.

"I'm serious," he said, and he sounded it, "They need your friendship, too, you know."  
But this was only met with a louder laugh.

"Phil…" Dan sighed, "They need discipline, and they need it from you. Are you going to help me out here?"

"Listen, I'm not going to be the one to discipline them, Dan. They don't listen to me; they listen to you, Tabitha and Dil. I'm _nobody_ to them," Phil replied, very flatly, his laugh dissipating scarily fast.

"We've had our talk, remember?" Dan reminded him, laying his hands on his shoulders because it seemed to be the only way to get him to pay attention and be completely serious about it, "We've achieved the knowledge that these things can be fixed, we've decided we're going to fix them, so are you going to go through with it now?"

 _"Well-"_

"They're only children; they're easy to influence."

"I know they're children, Dan."

"Is you a wuss?"

"Wha-? N- _no?"_ Phil replied, unsure of himself.

" _Is you a wuss?"_

"No," he repeated, somewhat more confidently.

 _"Is YOU a wuss?"_ Dan demanded for the third time, violently shaking his friend by his bony, pointy shoulders.

"NO!" Phil retorted, starting to feel quite sick from the sudden shaking, "Now if you'd stop wobbling me, mate, that'd be lovely," he frowned.

Dan stopped and smiled.

"Then you're going to toughen up and be an authority figure like you ought to be. OK?"

"OK," Phil chuckled, putting his hands behind his back.

"Now stop being a coward and assert yourself."

This, amongst other things, was something that was easier said than done, but Phil wasn't about to sit in the corner and let people look down on him, even if it meant over-compensating a little bit.


	50. Drone

"Guys, what did I literally _just_ say about the shoes?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, I guess."  
"Is that all I'm getting?"

"Umm…" Dab hummed, not even tearing his gaze from the paper in front of him, and not seeming to care at all that he'd done exactly what he was told not to do. He didn't continue his sentence, either, and instead continued what he was doing.

Phil could feel a sharp remark creeping up his throat, but controlled himself and kept it down.

"I think you two should be the ones to clean up the mess you've made," he said instead, strictly.

Dab groaned in reply to this, loudly, and threw his head back in frustration.

"Do we _have_ to?" He mumbled, "But it'll be dinnertime soon!"

Phil paused, considering what to answer with that wouldn't be too strict or, on the other hand, too lenient.

"After dinner," he decided, "And that's final," he added, seeing that Dab was about to answer back.

Evan stayed silent throughout all of this, but at least he looked up from his science book to pay attention to what was being said. He didn't seem the type to really get involved in arguments, especially not with other people's parents – or in this case, childminders.

Phil bit his lip, saw that nobody was going to say anything else, frowned and left the room.

He shut the door as quietly as he could as he walked away, and quickly flashed his eyes about the main room as he made his way over to the sofa, avoiding dirty footprints as he went, and practically threw himself into the cushions, beside Dan.

"They're not listening to me," he said, flatly, even though Dan had heard the entire conversation.

Dan looked up from the book in his hands and bit his lip.

"You're not giving up, are you?" He swallowed, for want of anything better to say.

"Oh, no, if course not," Phil replied, shaking his head, dismissively, as if he were offended at the mere thought of it.

"They're not going to clean up unless you really tell them to," Dan said, looking back down to his book, "Don't let them 'umm' and 'ahhh' about it; let them know that you're the one who sets the rules."  
"I don't want to turn into an army officer," Phil scoffed, but he took the advice onboard. If the kids still refused to clean after tea, he wouldn't be compromising and they would be cleaning, whether they liked it or not.

There was a heavy silence where neither of them spoke, only sat next to each other and contemplated whatever their mind conjured up.

"I, uh…" Phil started, "I was wondering what I should make for dinner. Any ideas?"

"Fish and chips," Dan replied, as if he'd been deciding the answer to this question all his life and had come to a very definite reply and was completely certain that dinner must be fish and chips.

"A- alright," Phil agreed, slightly surprised at the fact that it took Dan about 0.3 seconds to answer, and he stood up again.

"You don't have to start it yet," Dan told him, flatly, "Sit down for a while. You need a rest."

"I… suppose so," Phil shrugged, sitting back down and letting Dan put his arm around his shoulders, quietly, "What book are you reading?"

"A cookbook," Dan replied, stroking down his friend's arm, comfortingly.

"That explains why you replied so quickly," Phil smiled, noticing that the title of the page was a recipe for fish and chips. He would have sat with Dan a little longer, but he felt as if he was wasting time not doing anything, and soon slipped away to the kitchen.

"It's not even twelve yet," Dan frowned, slightly disappointed that his buddy had suddenly left him.

"Hey, the sooner the kids get their dinner, the sooner they can clean the floor," Phil reasoned with a shrug.

Dan set his eyes on the footprints on the white floorboards – of which were usually immaculate – and had to admit that they could do with cleaning before the Howlter parents got home. He didn't say this, though.

"Is that what you told them?" He inquired instead, and received a nod in confirmation. He wasn't sure that Dab in particular would stick to this resolution, but he could only hope along with his friend that he would.

"I mean, I _could_ just clean it myse-"  
"No way, pal!" Dan put in before Phil could end his sentence, "They're the ones who left the mess; you aren't here to clean up after them. Dil and Tabitha aren't going to mind if there's a bit of muck on the floor as long as they know the children are going to scrub it off."

But still he could read the annoyance in his friend's eyes: Phil hadn't let any tiny matter go unattended for the time that the Howlters were at Granite Falls and he still insisted on keeping everything perfect whenever he found himself head of the house, which was most of the time.

He set about preparing everything in dead silence, with hardly any expression on his face, and only the aura about him to discreetly convey any emotions, of which there were not many, to say the least.

Dan chewed his lip in thought, set the cookbook out on the counter, open at the page necessary, and leaned on the breakfast bar with his elbows.

"Smile," he ordered the next time Phil turned around, and he complied.

"Sorry," Phil chuckled, "Am I being peculiar again? Don't know what it is. Some sort of atmosphere, I don't know…" and he continued what he was doing.

His words were pretty vague but Dan knew exactly what he meant.


	51. Alone

Dan licked his dry lips and browsed the bookshelf for something more exciting than a cookbook to read – an actual story of some sort ideally. He stopped and turned his head when he heard little footsteps running behind him. There was the sound of flowing water in the background; the sink, obviously. Dinner was over now and Phil had clearly been left to clean up on his own.

"Aren't you… going to remind them to clean up?" Dan started, clearing his throat and looking to his friend, fiddling with the book in his hand.

Phil stared back, his usually bright eyes dull, and heaved a deep sigh.

" _Kids!"_ He yelled, his voice raspy, but neither Dab nor Evan answered.

"You need to go and talk to them," Dan said, flatly.

Phil didn't reply, but rolled his eyes, dried his hands, and trudged across the room to Dab's bedroom. He looked tired, but not physically, but more exhausted mentally of having to put up with all of… this. Dan didn't do anything to hold him back, but shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading the back cover of the novel in his hand to see if it was worth reading. He could hear talking in the other room, and he could tell that nobody really seemed very happy. He couldn't blame his friend for his tone of voice, though, because Dan would probably be the same in his situation, especially with the kid answering back like that. No snapping, though, strangely enough – Phil was doing a better job of keeping himself together than Dan did back in-… no, that's irrelevant – but there had to be a breaking point sometime: there always was.

"He really doesn't like me," Phil frowned after a bit, walking back out of the room and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I…" Dan started, knowing who his friend was talking about even without any sort of specification, "I'm sure that deep down, he still does, just like… Uh…" he stuttered, regretting the start of his last sentence.

"Just like you?" Phil finished for him, his eyelids falling slightly, almost so he was squinting – but perhaps that was just because he was tired – but then he flashed a smile, "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tip-toe around it like this anymore – we've got better things to worry about right now."

Dan was silent, almost in surprise,

"Yes… Yes, I suppose we do," he smiled back, softly, "So let's do something about that, hmm?"

Phil's smirk fell and he rolled his eyes for the second time in a short space of time,

" _I'm trying_ ," he hissed, under his breath.

Dan felt like telling him to try harder, and even though he meant it well, he decided it probably wasn't the best thing to say at that very moment in time.

"You're doing well," he assured him instead, "Things can only head up, right?"

"Right," Phil nodded, with a hint of something that was either mistrust or sarcasm or determination. Maybe all three at once, however that was possible.

Dan could see that a snapping point was pretty much inevitable, and he supposed that all he could do was sit back and watch.

"Would you… like to come and read with me to take your mind off it?" He offered, and saw his friend thinking deeply about it as if it was a very important decision. Dan made his most pleading eyes and added a 'please?' onto the end, and received a 'sure' in reply (the eyes almost always worked). So he grinned, put his arm around Phil's bony shoulders and walked him over to the sofa where the light was shining through the window right onto the cushions.

The sofa was nice and warm in the sun and they soon got settled, huddled up beside each other, and opened up the book. Dan insisted on Phil reading aloud, so he did, in a hushed voice, and Dan leaned on his shoulder and listened. It was a good way to take Phil's mind off the kids not listening, and a good way to let Dan think about how on Earth he could help without interfering, but however hard he tried, he couldn't really think of anything, so he just listened instead, all snuggled up.

There was something about the lighting, the smell of the book in front of him, the soft but husky tone of his friend's voice and the feel of his breathing that was very relaxing and oddly nostalgic-feeling: kind-of wistful and homesick. Dan gave a sigh, smiled tenderly, followed along with the words on the page, breathing in the stuffy book smell and shuffled his weight a bit before finally settling down and closing his eyes at last to rest. It was a nice day today and it was perfect on the snug sofa in the warm sunlight.

* * *

They lay there for quite a while, swallowed up by the story. There was still washing up to be finished but Dan wasn't about to remind Phil of that now – he seemed to be relatively content sitting in the daylight and reading – and, of course, there was still the dirt on the floor, but that didn't need to be brought to mind right now, either. In fact… nothing did-

"Hey, Dan?" A call came from behind, quite loudly, disrupting the little moment of bliss, "Can we go outside?"

Dan turned around – and so did Phil – to face Dab, who was stood in his bedroom doorway, looking very hopeful of something. Dan considered his request for a moment and chewed his lip in thought. Instead of giving a reply, he turned to Phil, expectantly. Phil nodded his head to the mucky floorboards, and Dan saw Dab roll his eyes and groan before trudging back into his room.

" _You_ should have told him to do it," Phil whispered, his expression blank, saving his page in the book with his thumb, "He would have happily complied."  
Dan frowned and shook his head,

"No, he needs to realise that he's not cheating your rules by asking me instead," he decided, turning back around, "Now, are we going to carry on with this book?"

Phil swallowed loudly and his throat rasped as he drew in a breath.

"What time is it?" He asked.

"Only two," Dan told him, tilting his head to the side, inquisitively, "Why?"

Phil shrugged, nonchalantly,

"Just wondered," he said, and got to his feet.

"Philly? Where are you going?" Dan asked, suddenly, grabbing his friend's wrist to stop him until he'd explained.

"Well, I need to put the dishes away," Phil replied, in a tone as if it was very, very evident what he was doing, even though it really wasn't, "Can't just leave a job half-done, can I?"

Dan let him go, though he was slightly disappointed that his reading partner had now disappeared to do something more important, so he snuggled down on his own and closed his eyes again. He wasn't going to finish the book on his own, that'd be spoiling it, so he patiently lazed about and waited. He was sure he could hear the quiet drone of what he could only assume was Phil talking to himself in the background.

Everyone was pretty much doing their own thing. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like – they were all supposed to bond this time, but it wasn't really going that way at all.

They were all together physically, yes, but in tendency, it really felt like each one was all alone.


	52. Milestone

**A/N: Sorry this has taken so long! It probably feels longer than it actually is, but whatever. I'd written down a load of notes for this chapter and it turns out that the notes were probably better than the actual chapter, so I'm a teeny tiny bit disappointed, but no matter because it's up now at least.**

 **And, Spyder-pig? Sorry about the knife. Happens a lot *slowly removes knife from your chest* just watch out for more.  
Stabbity stabbity, y'know.**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

Of course, just telling Dab to take care of his errands before going outside to fool around in the garden in the sun wasn't going to do a whole lot, least of all stop him. He stayed in his room as he'd been told, waiting until all of his childminders' distractions were removed, and then crept out as quietly as he could, opening the back door when nobody was looking, without a sound, and sneaking out alongside Evan. He didn't care what he did because Dan didn't seem too bothered and Phil didn't look like he was about to dish out the discipline any time soon.

It was still hot outside in this June sun, and Dab and Evan weren't going to waste the rest of the day cleaning floorboards. They went and played outside for half an hour instead, just because they could, and hurried back inside before anyone realised they'd been out. They hopped up onto the kitchen counter then and talked away, scoffing all the biscuits from the tin in the cupboard.

They weren't gone for too long, but they didn't go unnoticed, especially since there were now two extra pairs of muddy footprints leading from the back door, which didn't go overlooked, either, by a sharp, green-blue pair of eyes.

Phil swallowed as he stood with his hands in his pockets – as was his manner of late – and watched the kids swing their legs as they sat on the bar. His breath whistled slightly with every inhalation, the rings around his eyes were still dark and his skin had almost no colour to it whatsoever. Not that that was _tremendously_ irregular, but recently he was even more pallid than usual.

Dan was watching very closely from the sofa, because Lester had a very different air about him: something like irate disappointment with a hint of antagonism that was quite abnormal for his usually temperate and tender personality. Dan knew it was coming sometime, of course, but he wished it had been directed at him rather than… them.

Getting the house a mess was bad enough, but twice refusing to clean and ignoring the fact that they had to do what they were told, then promptly creeping out of the house after just being told not to? It was a matter of authority, and you don't just ignore the very person responsible for your entire existence.

Phil had coped with it well so far, and deserved commendation for that much alone. He hadn't lost his temper really and had dealt – or not dealt – with everything as calmly as he could, but there was only so long he could put up with being pushed aside by virtually his own creation, and he wasn't going to stand there like cheese at fourpence any longer.

Dan sat back, book in hand, pretending to read, but secretly watching everything unfold. He had seen his friend get gradually more irritable as the day went on – the years of friendship had taught him to recognise every hint of emotion from the slightest facial expression or movement – he at least felt a _little_ bit sorry for the kid, he supposed, but he felt a whole lot more sorry for his best friend, having to be the antagonist for once in his life.

Dan certainly knew how that felt, and he knew what the aftermath would feel like, too.

It had started with an exhausted 'get down,' in the very sharp Lancastrian tone (that still surprised Dan even after over 7 years), then a more annoyed _'down!'_ when the realisation sunk in that he was being ignored again.

But it was one sentence that did it, really.

"Why should I listen to you? You're not my dad," Dab said, blankly.

Phil hadn't been too fussed before that point, really, and had even considered calmly talking to the kid about everything, but those words made something in his min click. There was a heavy moment of silence where Dan could swear he could _hear_ his friend's heartbeat.

"…'Why'?" Phil repeated, tilting his head to the side, his neck making an odd click sort of sound as he did, " _Why_?" He said again, his voice an undistinguishable snake-like mix of disbelief and something else, "Who do you think is responsible for your entire life, who got your parents together after creating your father, so they could create you? Do you know who that was?"

"…Dan? And you?" Dab replied, awkwardly looking to Dan for help, yet Howell didn't maintain eye contact with him, but looked back down to his book.

Even Dan was notably taken-aback when his friend ended up snapping – he wasn't used to such a mild-tempered soul having such a voice: one of those usually gentle tones that made your heart drop like a brick when it bit. Dan watched discreetly from the sofa, his heart heavy, slightly timorous of his friend's Lanky twang and manner; every speck of mellow warmth had been shattered and replaced with a sort of rawness like a new wound being washed over with salt, and it really wasn't habitual of him.

It was odd seeing him like that, and maybe it was because of his docile nature that gave his voice more impact – Dab certainly looked like he was a bit knocked for six, too – as he kept barking questions and reciting everything he'd done, all with what could either be tears or sweat rolling down his pale cheeks. He had a right to be annoyed, Dan supposed; he'd kept it all in for this long, and the dam had to break sometime, sure as eggs is eggs.

Dan knew that the most sensible thing to do was to step in, but Phil was making a fairly good point, and he supposed Dab got what was coming to him.

Phil had dragged the kid, by the arm, off the worktop (where he shouldn't have been sitting) and held him in place by the wrist whilst he gave him a very stern talking-to. It seemed to be doing a very good job: Dab didn't answer back, probably because of the surprise of it, and Evan had slowly gotten down from the breakfast bar to stand quietly in the corner and listen.

"I've given you _everything_ you _asked for_ ," Phil had choked, his breath staggering, "Don't I deserve a _bit_ more than… _this?"_

He paused for a moment, almost panting, and licked his dry lips as if he was in very deep thought about something. Eventually he heaved a sigh, adjusting his gaze to see the back door, and swallowed before looking back to Dab.

"Go play. _Go!"_ he ordered, in a slightly regretful manner, letting go of the kid's wrist and pointing to the door, which Dab gingerly sloped out of, with Evan close behind.

Dan waited until they were both outside before closing the book in his hand and shakily getting to his feet, heading over to attempt to console his friend. He hadn't really expected the actual spontaneous breaking to be this out-of-the-blue, but at least it was through now. He laid a soft hand on his friend's shoulder and led him away a bit, past the kitchen.

"Are you OK?" He asked, gently, and Phil quickly lifted his head up to him with his wide eyes and contracted pupils that gradually dilated the longer he stared.

"I don't know," he swallowed, his eyes darting over Dan's face like little sea-green lasers. He honestly didn't know if he was OK, too, "I'm sorry," he apologised.

"Don't be; just… calm down, alright?" Dan hushed him, seeing the beginning of tears forming, and stroked down his arms to give his hands a tender squeeze.

"I feel… terrible," Phil hissed, making a little gasp for air, "He's gonna' hate me even more now-"

"No, no, don't say that," Dan replied, shaking his head, "Remember our talk earlier? This isn't our life; we're in virtual reality. Don't get too stressed out, it's… a game – _they're_ a game, sunshine-"

" _Don't 'sunshine' me!"_ Phil snapped, and Dan promptly apologised, even though he'd meant it more affectionately than anything.

Dan pulled his friend into a hug in an effort to pacify him, and it worked to some extent. Both Howell and Lester knew that it was risky to leave things as they were, and it was especially important to try to fix things before the Howlter parents got home – and they only had a few hours to do it.


	53. Granted

The next few hours of that day were a bit odd and awkward. It seemed that nobody had any clue what to do with themselves.

Dan had given his friend some space to think and had made himself content with browsing the Internet on his phone in the bedroom. He didn't fancy being disturbed, either, because he, too, was thinking almost as deeply as Phil was. He had closed the door and sat himself down on the bedsheets (Dil and Tabitha didn't mind him making himself at home, at least not after everything he'd done for them) with his headphones on, completely zoned out.

Phil, on the other hand, had made the… _interesting_ decision of taking a blue barstool from the drinks bar and moving it over to in front of the back door so that he could put his feet up on the foot bar and stare out, absently, into the garden. He kind-of wished he could be outside right this moment, to go for a very long walk down to the river or even Oasis Springs: anywhere as long as it was quiet and peaceful and he wasn't looking at the child that was in _his_ care, that he had… _wounded_. He felt a bit like he was on the other end of February and suddenly related exactly to how Dan had felt. He didn't want to leave the kid feeling like _he_ did back when The Thing That Shall Not Be Named happened, and he knew that he had to do something before he got too overwhelmed with it all like Dan did and broke down.

That's why he was staring out into the garden.

Watching.

His laser-like eyes scrutinized every one of Dab's moves, as if all his senses were heightened, and he tried to tune in to the children's conversations, attempting to deduce their emotions, but to no avail. In one way he appreciated the distance because he needed space to observe, but on the other hand, he wished that he could hear what they were saying – what they were probably saying about _him._

They'd had nothing to say to him a few minutes before, which only gave Phil the impression that they were talking about him behind his back, which didn't change much at all, really, but only added to the soupy brew of exasperation that he was stirring in his mind.

He decided to think about his stay here to try and calm himself down, so he put one foot onto the seat so he could rest his elbow on his knee (he looked a bit like a thin, lanky spider in partial death-curl), and let his mind trail back to the first of June.

That first day, he and Dan had arrived in a flood of binary code and sparks whirling around them, before finding themselves in a tangled heap on the patio in the garden, right beside the satellite, with Dil staring down to them. Their Sim had greeted them with open arms, helping them to their feet and making sure they were both very much in-tact before they decided they needed a walk to ease themselves into the new feel of the world (going back and forth through dimensions unsurprisingly came with its side effects, two of which being nausea and dizziness, so a bit of fresh air would break them in). They were told to be back at Potter's Splay at around half 7 in the evening – that being only a few hours from their arrival – and they did as they were told.

The look on Dab's face when he opened the door to them was one that was engrained into Phil's mind by now. He re-lived that moment quite a lot, but this particular time, as he remembered the joy and the excitement and the complete wholeness that they all felt, was enough to bring him to physical tears, which even Dan could probably hear through his headphones (if not sense it). He tried to dry his eyes, though, swallowed and thought back to what happened after their reunion.

They'd headed to the park and run into Summer, Phil remembered. He'd fallen asleep on a bench in the sweltering heat, taking a rest before they had to walk back home, watching the sunset as they went. One of the other reasons for coming was to appreciate the surroundings, but he believed they'd done enough of that. Maybe that was why he stopped being so elated; he stopped looking.

Dil and Tabitha had left the very next day, and Dab had still been very excited about everything. He seemed over-the-moon that he got to spend a week with his 'cool' childminders, who had power over almost the whole of his little universe. Maybe Phil had forgotten that, too: that he didn't need to be so hassled about everything because none of it was really… real… which is what Dan was trying to tell him, and should have been cemented in his mind by now, but that he kept disregarding, because to _him_ it was _so much more_ than pixels in a screen.

He looked down to his wan, almost transparent hands and cocked his head as if he was confused, though they were really just normal hands and nothing to be confused about. He supposed he was still getting over how all of this was even viable. It wasn't supposed to be possible, so he wasn't about to take it for granted.

He supposed he'd _never_ really 'gotten over' it.

He closed his eyes and remembered Eliza coming over and giving them flowers and wine as a gift to welcome them back, and telling them how Summer was having a masquerade party, and how she would love it if they could go. The idea of a little caper had been too enticing, with the allure of anonymity and the knowledge that it would be all to easy to swindle Dan into thinking that his friend wasn't actually with him. Phil had spent a good amount of time planning his little joke, and had used most of his thinking time on it, especially over dinner at Chez Llama later that day. It was there that they had found Erica, and now, from his trip to Magnolia Promenade a few days ago, Phil knew that she had been watching them.

Of course she had been.

The rest of the week looking after Dab had been pretty uneventful, and Phil assumed that it was when Summer had invited him for coffee that his mood had switched. Perhaps that was when Dab started disliking him: when he possibly got too strict, when he forgot it wasn't real, when he stopped looking.

Maybe he _did_ take it all for granted.

There wasn't really time to deeply ponder much past Tabitha's disappearance, Phil's mission to find her, his fever dream, his times at night with Dan, and nor was there any time to remember the instance where he'd been convinced that he was going to change (some sort of 'new air' he'd thought it was. That was before he went to Oasis Springs, where nothing really worked, and before he sat in the garden and thought, because thinking was the only thing to really do any more because he'd forgotten how to have fun, and before he'd gone to Magnolia Promenade. Maybe he had changed a bit. But that was also before Evan came, and that had distorted a tad more than a _bit_ ). There wasn't time to recall these things because before his mind could search around for something else, he was alerted by a sudden spontaneous snap and a thud and the sound of a very abrupt, if slightly faint, shriek.


	54. Bandaged

Dan obviously hadn't heard it.

There wasn't so much as a creak of the mattress from the bedroom, and Phil wasn't going to sit around and wait to see if his friend would come, either; instead, he sprang off the barstool, almost knocking it backwards in the process, and darted outside in not quite a run but not a walk either, to the huge tree way past the garden where he had earlier seen the kids playing.

Dab wasn't his son. He wasn't his grandson. He wasn't even flesh and blood, but a creator would know the voice of their own creation anywhere, and it was only natural to help him.

Dab was sat on the ground, Evan beside him, with dirt and bits of grass stuck all up the left side of his T-shirt. He was clutching his arm with his right hand and he had tears running through the mud on his cheeks.

"Hey, are you OK there, pal?" Phil swallowed, dropping to his knees to be on eye-level, "What happened?"

"We were climbing the tree," Evan told him, looking down at his reddened eyes contrasting his white skin, "He fell."

Phil reached to check over Dab's arm and, as gently as he could, felt across it. His heart was still beating rapidly from the sudden noise, and he was almost panting from having to race across the garden, too.

"I think it's just a sprain," he assured the kid, before swallowing, loudly, standing up and holding a hand out, "Come on, let's get inside."

Dab took his hand and shakily got up. It must have been a pretty nasty fall: the tree was relatively tall and, even though there was grass covering the ground, there was probably dozens of little sharp stones in the soil. Dab closely followed his carer back into the cosy house and was seated at the green dining chair whilst Phil dampened a flannel cloth to try and ease the sprain.

"You've gotta' be careful," he muttered, as he laid it over the child's arm, as gently as he could, "Especially climbing trees that tall – I'm surprised that you've only gotten a sprain from this and not something worse."

Dab sniffed and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. He seemed a little bit confused… Phil assumed it was from the fall, but it was more confusion as to why his mood had changed so fast.

"Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?" Dab asked, quietly, and Phil paused for a while, in a state of almost uncertainty, his hand getting really soggy because he hadn't removed it from the wet flannel yet.

"W… _Why?_ Well… because…" he stuttered, struggling for words, "Uh… why not? Because you're my responsibility, I suppose, and I-… care. It doesn't matter what I say; you're my creation and I _do_ care, and I always will… _Ach-_ that was cheesy, forget I said that-"

Dab chuckled, happily, at him, and Phil couldn't help but smile back a bit for the first time since he'd gone off with Dan at the park: an actual smile for once.

Phil didn't say anything else, but got to his feet, his joints clicking, and stole into the bathroom to fetch some generic antiseptic cream and perhaps a bandage. He'd never really been very good at treating injuries, but he did all he could really think to do, and it seemed to work as good as anything. He ensured that the bandage was properly wrapped around and wouldn't slip off, that all the mud was wiped off the kid's face, and he gave a gentle smirk.

"Now, don't go climbing any trees," he warned, kneeling on the floor "Keep yourself _grounded_."

"I will," Dab assured him, getting up from the chair, to his feet, "Thank you, Uncle Phil."

And before he could think of anything to say next, Phil found himself wrapped in two soft, little arms.

 _"And I'm sorry,"_ Dab added, very silently.

"Don't be," Phil replied, patting his back. He wasn't used to hugging people who weren't Dan, and who were probably about half his size, but he did his best, "And you don't have to call me uncle, either. Now go play with your friend."

So Dab let go with a wide grin and hurried off out into the warm fresh air with as much childlike energy as always, leaving his childminder sat, cross-legged, on the floorboards. Phil smiled to himself, contently, and closed his eyes from the bright sunlight beaming into his face. He felt like it was a job fairly well done.

"Good job," a soft voice came from behind, and as he turned about, Phil saw the face of his best friend looking fondly down to him from the bedroom doorway, "I think you did it."

 _"I did,"_ he replied, quietly yet happily unsteadily getting to his feet, using the table as a support, "I _fixed_ something!"

"You did," Dan snickered, walking over and wrapping his friend in an envelope of the warm hoodie he was wearing.

Phil didn't really know _how_ he 'did it', or how 'it' happened so quickly, but he was enjoying this little moment and wasn't about to ruin it by questioning it like he always did, and he certainly wasn't going to take it for granted

"I think you deserve a rest, don't you?" Dan smiled, behind his back. He'd sat silently in the bedroom after he'd heard the snap – the snap that Phil thought he didn't hear – and waited to see if Phil would see what it was, which he did. Then he'd listened to the conversation that followed, smiling to himself at the rare soft and gentle tone that his friend had used. Dan was unreasonably proud.

"I- I don't think I'm tired," Phil replied, which was unusual for him because recently he'd spent most of his time either cleaning, standing around looking distressed, or asleep.

"You're not?" Dan hummed, "Well, what do you want to do instead, then?"

Phil gave a hum of thought, tilting his head to the side – which would have been ok, only in this case he just ended up bunting Dan in the neck – and eventually breathing a long sigh into his friend's shoulder.

"I thought maybe we should finish that book," he said.


	55. Do Not Cry

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's been so long in the making; I've had a touch of writer's block. Got good news and bad news: bad news is all my pets are dead and it was sad, but the good news is that I'm getting a cat next year! *insert children cheering sound effect* Hopefully it will be a girl cat like my old one and maybe I can call her Susan but let's see.**

 **ALSO REMINDER that I have a FictionPress account called Brandy Cream, and I have a story there that I'm very proud of called SpaceCraft Galaxy and it's almost finished and you should totally read it - it'd make me feel a whole lot better seeing as I'm very lonely without my animals now. Shameless self-promo. Have a nice day.**

 **-Whisker**

 **s/3306592/1/Spacecraft-Galaxy**

* * *

"How was your day, guys?"

Dan's eyes quickly flashed up from the page in front of him and to the front door, as Dil and Tabitha wiped their feet on the doormat. _Was it 5:30 already?_ It didn't feel to Dan like the day had gone on long enough yet, but then again, he'd been absorbed in the book. It was a very long book and he and Phil had almost finished it by now, in-between breaks of assuring that the children were alright, taking turns to read with every chapter. Dan supposed he'd just been so captivated by the novel that he'd completely forgotten about the time.

"It was…" he started, but trailed off as he struggled to think of an appropriate description of the day.

"Interesting," Phil finished for him, and Dan gave a nod of agreement. 'Interesting' was probably the way to go.

"Anything you want to talk to us about?" Dil asked, being his usual nosy self, and for a moment, Phil's mind raced with suspicion.

Had Dab called them after the _thing_ happened? Texted them? Why did Dil have to ask that? Why would he wonder if there was anything that was of such importance that it had to be admitted as soon as he entered the house? How suspicious was he? Perhaps it was just a co-incidence, but Phil would never put it past Dab; not with what he'd told Evan earlier in the week, and for a second, Phil wondered whether he should actually tell his Sim about the _thing._

"Not… particularly," he replied at last, but his facial expression said something else (it wasn't clear what exactly this something else was, but it wasn't what he'd just said). Dil didn't seem phased, though, and nodded, thoughtfully. He may have been nosy, but he wasn't very observant.

Phil swallowed, unsure of himself, wondering whether he'd said the wrong thing, and replaced the bookmark in the book, closing its hardback cover with that satisfying _'thwop'_ sound that books make when you close them. Then he opened it and did it again because it was just that satisfying. He was going to do it a third time but Dan looked at him weirdly so he stopped.

"I hope that the kids haven't been too much trouble for you," Tabitha said as she hugged them both. Her sentence only added to Phil's suspicion, but he said nothing.

"Well, they're kids," Dan shrugged, saying neither 'yes' nor 'no'. He wasn't sure whether it was too soon to talk about the thing, either, but he'd discuss it with his friend later – who was looking a bit paler than usual but mostly OK – and hopefully it wouldn't turn out like explaining the Thing That Shall Not be Named did, because that was very awkward.

The thought had occurred to Dan that maybe calling it 'The Thing That Shall Not be Named' was maybe making it a bit worse and even more awkward to talk about and they should probably change it to something less ominous.

Dan flashed a glance to Phil, and they both felt like they both agreed that now was not the time to talk about it. Tomorrow, maybe, but not today, or at least not right now.

The sound of small feet hurrying into the room was the next sound that they heard, and a happy exclamation of _'Mum! Dad!'_ , which was obviously Dab, followed by a _'look what I drew!'._

"Woah, that's so good!" Dil smiled, sounding very proud of the picture of a dog that he was presented with.

Dab had showed the drawing to Phil and Dan earlier, too, and Phil had almost said 'nice cat' as a joke, but felt that that was a bit mean, and instead nodded and said something nicer.

Apart from the question of when the Howlter parents should know about the 'thing', Dan had decided that the rest of the day and their journey would probably be alright. Then again, that's what he had thought this morning. Things seemed to be coming together, though, and Phil seemed to be generally back to his normal, cheerful self.

It was odd thinking that they'd been here almost two weeks now, but back home, it had probably only been a day or two. Like Narnia, but… not quite. Actually not like Narnia at all, forget that analogy. Bad.

The only thing really left to do is sort out something with Summer, and that hopefully wouldn't take too long with a little thought and planning. In the meantime, they could relax and spend time with their virtual family like they came here to do, before eventually going home again. It would be nice to get back and finally resume their normal lives; filming and suchlike. Even though this world was idealistic, nothing could beat being back in London and seeing their real friends; and even though their 'Phandom' was a little problemat- _actually very problematic_ \- and excessive, they were missing it. Mostly.

As long as nothing huge happened before they finished off and headed home, everything should be fine. Maybe it wasn't as bad as February had been… or maybe it was worse; depends how you look at it, really. Sometimes Dan would forget that they'd ever been gone. He'd look around the house and be brought back to 4 months ago and be filled with that returning sense of fault. He'd get it sometimes when he looked at Phil, too, and remembered the state he'd been in back in February; what he'd looked like and how he'd been so shattered and crushed. Dan would give him hugs then – even if they were out-of-the-blue and Phil was a bit surprised – out of guilt, and try to forget about it. Now was one of those times: he snuggled into his friend, who wasn't really very cuddly and was a bit pointy and thin but tried his best, and breathed a heavy sigh into his shoulder.

"Do you reckon everything will stay pretty calm from now on?" He asked, as quietly as he could so that the Howlters wouldn't hear, though he knew the answer quite well.

"Hopefully," Phil replied, which was exactly what Dan had expected, "But all we can do is take it as it comes, right?"

Dan nodded in agreement. Good to stay positive, but not to expect greatness – that only ever leads to disappointment. Everything felt very still right this moment, though. As soon as Dil and Tabitha came home, everything always seemed to calm down, as mostly all responsibility was shifted onto the parents. Dan almost felt like he could fall asleep, resting cosily against his best friend, feeling his breath and hearing his heartbeat through his chest. Placid, Dan thought, and he didn't really want to move.

That was until a melodic enquiry of 'Uncle Phiiiiiiil?' piped up, and Dab's face appeared in front of them.

"Hmm?" Phil hummed, lifting his gaze and drumming his spidery fingers against the book cover. The soft _'dum-dum-dum-dum'_ patter of the tapping and the tangy smell of the pages only made the ambience all the more placid.

"Can Evan stay one more night?" Dab asked, very kindly, " _Please?"_

Phil was quiet as he thought for a bit. He'd said yes to letting Evan stay in the first place, and just look how that turned out.. Then again, would he be lapsing back into the bleak, humdrum guardian that he had been?

"Um… sure, I suppose," he nodded eventually, and saw the kid's face light up.

"Thank you, Uncle Phil!" He grinned, hurrying back off into his bedroom.

"You don't have to call me uncle!" Phil called after him, but he was already gone.

Dan smiled, contently, but said nothing. He closed his eyes and yawned, laying his head on his friend's collar and slowly drifting off to sleep with a tender hand on his back.

Unruffled, definitely. But that was more than could be said for their trip so far.


	56. Lullaby

"Want to go for a walk?"

Phil lifted his eyes from his phone screen and looked up to his friend, before looking to the window, back to Dan and then raising an eyebrow.

"A… walk?" He repeated, sceptically, "Since when do _you_ suggest _walks_?"

"It's dark; I thought it might be nice," Dan replied, sounding a bit sad that his friend hadn't immediately agreed to his suggestion.

"It's cold," Phil scoffed, letting his gaze fall back down to the tumblr tab open.

"Look, what else is there to do?" Dan whined. He was wide awake after his little nap earlier and had as much energy as a kid who had just drank about 5 caffeinated energy drinks. Maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration but there was no better way to put it, really.

Phil slowly lifted his phone and turned it around to show the screen,

"Look at this cat," he said, very flatly, and watched Dan observe the cat gif loop a few times, transfixed, before eventually stopping.

"Please?" Dan begged, dying to get some fresh air and to look up at the stars without any street lights cluttering the sky, "Don't you want to see the stars?" It wouldn't be the same if he was on his own

Phil sighed but smirked.

"Fine…" he finally agreed, rolling his eyes, "Let me get my coat and we'll go."

Dan did a discreet celebratory fist pump but tried not to let his friend see. It was getting late, about 11pm, Dab and Evan were asleep – or at least whispering to each other and telling stories when they _should_ have been asleep – and Dil and Tabitha were probably reading or watching something before they went to sleep. The Howlters always gave Phil and Dan a bit of space when it got late, so that they could relax and talk for a bit. These were usually the times for complaining at each other about anything and everything, and making increasingly more self-deprecating jokes as the night went on. Tonight, though, it was the time for one forcing the other to go outside and look at big burning globes of gas in the sky.

"You better tell Dil and Tabitha where we're going," Phil pointed out, picking his coat up from the back of his favourite chair at the table and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Ah, it'll be fine," Dan insisted, even though he saw the concerned expression on his friend's face.

"What if something happens?"

"What would possibly happen where they would have to send out a search party?"

"You know, that's the sort of thing they say in horror movies," Phil hissed, but he didn't seem too concerned, so Dan sniggered and put his coat on, too, followed by shoes because nobody likes muddy socks.

"So where are we going?" Phil asked, quite loudly, hoping that the Howlter parents might hear, tying his red shoelaces as quickly as he could.

"I thought we should go down to the forest. Y'know; where the barrier thing is?" Dan replied, and Phil nodded, thoughtfully.

Going outside wasn't bad in itself, and it would be nice to gaze up at the stars, but it was very cold and a bit breezy. No matter, though. If the rest of the trip was going to be relaxing, a walk would only help.

They both left the house swiftly, hoping that at least one person had heard, and started their way to the forest. It was a relatively long-ish walk there, but that was alright. Nothing really seemed bad today, or at least not after Phil had actually _fixed_ something: he was very proud of himself for that.

* * *

"Are you feeling alright?" Dan asked, nicely, looping his arm around Phil's shoulders.

"Absolutely," Phil assured him, as confidently as he could. He didn't appreciate it when their walks turned into Dan constantly enquiring about whether he was alright or not – all Phil wanted was to have a nice unceremonious conversation. But Dan left it here this time.

Pendula View was where the spa was located, and Dan harkened back to their trip there last Monday where they'd had a bit of a battle involving a lot of mud from the baths that both of them were too tall to fit in. Beyond the spa was the forest, and Dan could see it now as they approached.

The forest always looked very pretty – especially in the dark when the moonlight shone through the gaps in the leaves of the trees – and both Phil and Dan were quite curious to see what the barrier looked like after they'd shattered it back in February, and to lay in the grass like complete weirdo's. Hopefully nobody would be around to look and judge them.

Huddled together to keep warm in the chill, they stepped into the thick of the woods, into the jumble of trees, and breathed two heavy sighs in perfect unison. They'd do that a lot: do and say things at exactly the same time like some strange, telepathically connected twins… or something of that ilk.

The forest was as mesmerising as they remembered, and wandering through it gave a sense of nostalgia and fascination that they got quite a lot in this universe, but most of all in the woods. There was something about the lighting and the atmosphere… it was quite unnerving, actually, but undeniably very dreamlike. Sometimes it gave Phil a feeling like a chill running down his spine and a stabbing pain in his chest. Last time, he'd felt that it was his instinct telling him that something about the trees was 'wrong' – which could be traced to the barrier – but this time he just felt like it was a little shiver from the pure charm of it all. But _everything_ seemed nicer this time than in February. Maybe not having a constant, bleeding reminder of the Thing pressed against his left cheekbone was helping make June better.

The trees towering overhead and the moonlight spattering across the leaves and broken sticks on the ground under him, Phil swallowed and tiredly followed his friend further into the woods. His legs were starting to ache and he couldn't wait to lie down.

That was when he saw the circle of light further on. Oh, what memories that sent hurtling back to him. Bidding goodbye to his Sims and hoping that going through this odd glassy window of a blockade wouldn't tear him into a million pieces and stop his heart… outlandish times; Outré, some may say.

He stopped as Dan did and turned to make eye contact.

"Should get a nice view here. No leaves," Dan said, smiling, "Coming?" And he got down to the dewy grass.

Phil nodded, returning the smile, and lolled out beside him, not caring about his coat getting damp or his hair getting messy, making himself comfortable for a bit before he lifted his gaze to the skies and found himself quite knocked for six.

"…Well I'll go to the bottom of our stairs…" he gawped, his Lancastrian custom overpowering him for a second. It was an expression of surprise, but 'wow' would have worked just as well.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Dan breathed, not tearing his stare from the parting in the leaves where the night sky was perfectly visible and the stars shone like tiny gemstones on a black blanket of silk.

It was… picture perfect, seamless, textbook… like everything else in this idealistic world. Sometimes, Phil thought as he laid there, it's not good for things to have no fault. It's unnerving; sickening, almost. You need that one aspect that's just a little bit not there, something to bring you back to reality, something like a dead tree or a crushed-up can under a bush. Having nothing wrong at all gave way for over-contemplating things. It might seem strange, but having perfection was tense. It wasn't normal. It wasn't _true_.

And suddenly Phil really wished he was back in London.

"Why did you bring me out here?" He asked, quietly, after a while, turning his head so he could look to Dan.

"I told you. To see the perfect stars."

"Do you find it as strange as I do?"

Dan gave a wan smile.

"I suppose I do, yes," he answered. He drew a long breath in, closed his eyes, and was about to say something, but stopped himself.

Suddenly everything had gone very quiet.

The familiar and comforting rustle of the breeze drifting through the trees had dissipated and the air seemed to stop flowing, now standing still and thick like syrup.

It seemed that Phil had noticed, too, because when Dan opened his eyes again, he saw his friend with that one expression that spoke everything, with his irises almost vibrating and his pupils contracted.

"The air…" he whispered, "It's like… treacle."

Dan swallowed and sat up, abruptly, Phil shakily propping himself up next to him. The leaves had stopped waving, the crickets had stopped chirping… everything was silent and as immovable as a rock.

That was the moment when a loud sound came crashing out of the blue.

It was a strange sound. Almost like a tune. Something very familiar but slowed down and as loud as 5 fighter jets… three beeps in succession getting deeper with each ring.

It took Dan a second, but he realised what it was and exactly where he'd heard it before.

He bit his lip and his eyes darted to meet his friend's.

"The game crashed…"


	57. The Crash

**A/N: Guten Tag! Sorry this one's a bit short and ramble-y, my brain just kinda went 'Splegh' and this came out so... gotta' make-do with what I've got, right?  
**

 **On a random note, I've been playing a lot of Mirror's Edge Catalyst and now I want to run everywhere and jump on some conveniently-placed red objects.** **Also Internet Support Group 10 was great.**

 **Toodles,  
-Whisker **

* * *

One of the lessons that Dan had learned this June was to never sit back and say to yourself that everything was going to be smooth sailing, because it never was, and Dan had to learn that the hard way.

The sound he'd heard had been an error alert noise, and not only were he and Phil faced with the prospect of being trapped in the Crash, but the air was completely motionless and dense, and it wouldn't be long before they started struggling for breath.

"What do we do?" Dan swallowed, turning to his friend for any sort of help, even though they were both as clueless as each-other. As soon as the words had left his mouth, however, he immediately regretted saying them: he should have stayed calm and tried not to stem any anxiety, but of course his first instinct had been to look to his beloved, committed companion for proposals of any sort of plan. He shouldn't have worried about having inspired any tension, though, as he was met with a surprisingly confidently spoken suggestion.

"The satellite?" Phil offered, looking absurdly calm – even if a bit bewildered – in the current circumstance, "It might not be the computer crashing; it might be something within the game."

"I'm not so sure, but there's not much else we can do," Dan mumbled, unsteadily getting to his feet. He hadn't a clue what Phil was thinking the satellite could actually do to help, but he'd follow along with anything he said.

The ground felt weird under his feet, like the twigs and leaves that would usually crunch under his step stayed in one piece and made no sound. The world around him was a vacuum, a void acquit of any noise whatsoever apart from an odd, empty drone like the whirr of a CPU.

It was best not to rush into things, Dan thought. There was no need to hurry; it would only make them stressed. Just take it slow and easy, and- Wait. No, he was running. He found himself running. He justified this to himself because Phil had broken his composed smokescreen and was now also running.

Nothing was happening and maybe that was a whole lot worse than a lot of things actually happening.

It had been perfect – the atmosphere was calm, the trees were beautiful, the stars stunning – but now none of that mattered, and neither did the amazing view of the moon they were getting, because all that mattered right this moment was figuring out how to fix the game and get out of the Crash. If there was no way of fixing it… and there was no way of getting out… then they could be stuck here in a frozen universe for goodness knows how long: eternity maybe.

Dan swallowed the lump in his throat and panted from the unaccustomed exercise. A feeling of guilt washed over him like the one from February. He knew this wasn't his fault, but… it felt like it was.

"Phil!" He called over, and his friend abruptly turned to him.

"What is it, Dan?" Phil asked, gasping for breath, his ankles cracking like glow sticks every time his feet hit the ground. The ground that didn't feel like it was really there.

"I'm so sorry…"

"What? No! What are you talking about?"

"I… I dragged you out here. I assured you everything would be OK," Dan started, "I was going to suggest heading home, but… I decided to stay… we should have left-"

"You stop that right now," Phil ordered, slowing his pace to eventually halt, Dan skidding to a stop beside him, "This isn't the time to shame yourself and complain about it being your fault. It's nobody's fault, but it's _important_ , and if we don't get it sorted out, it could spell catastrophe. This whole world could freeze and never thaw out again. You think it really _matters_ whose fault it is?" He breathed, leaning his palms on his knees and catching his breath.

Dan opened his mouth to speak but no words came out and he closed it again, instead forming the corners into a weak smile. He made eye contact and Phil watched his pupils slowly dilate.

"Thank you…" Dan thanked him, slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck, "But do you really believe that there's anything that _we_ can do to save everything?"

Phil flicked his gaze to rest on the Goth's house, which was quite close to them and he could see over Dan's shoulder. Bella Goth was leaving the house, dressed in her crimson gown, yet motionless, like a statue, as she strode down the steps from the house's front door.

It wasn't just everything that was set like stone; it was every _one_.

"Dan…" Phil sighed, staring back to Dan again, "What can anyone _else_ do? We're the creators: we aren't part of the game, so we're the only things that aren't… frozen. The question isn't whether we can do anything to save everyone, it's whether we're going to _try_."

Dan bit his tongue. It'd been a while since his friend had said something stirring like that. He remembered back to their early years together when he'd look up to Phil and be inspired by every action and every word he said. As they'd gotten used to each other and settled into their life together, the motivating speeches had more-or-less stopped. This was one of the rare times when one kind-of just escaped. Dan liked these times that brought him back to the 2009 era.

"Now, are you coming?" Phil asked, raising his eyebrows. They were almost back to Potter's Splay, and they weren't about to stop and give up before even investigating the satellite.

"Yeah. I'm coming," Dan assured him with a smile.


	58. And Smash

Sure enough, even everything in Potter's Splay was stuck in time, just like everywhere else in Willow Creek. Through the kid's bedroom window, Dan saw Dab sitting on his bed with a torch shining upwards onto his face. Evan was on the floor beside the bed, looking like he was listening, intently, in a mix of excitement and fear. Both children were frozen, eerily, in the dark, with only the light of the torch to illuminate the room.

There was something utterly sinister and bone-chilling about the whole thing, seeing every plant, person and thing dead still.

Both Phil and Dan peered though the windows to check on the Howlter parents (who were both fast asleep) but soon realised that they couldn't re-enter the house: the lock wouldn't move and neither would the door if they _did_ manage to unlock it. This revelation wasn't game-changing, though, because they didn't even need to be in the house. All they needed was the satellite.

"How would we even know if anything was out-of-place?" Dan swallowed, running his fingers over the button panel on the side of the satellite pole, " _We_ don't know how to work this thing."

"And even if we did, it's not like we'd be able to right anything or press any buttons," Phil admitted, "It's just as frozen as anything else…"

"What can we do?" Dan whined, desperately, his eyes pleading for any more suggestions from his friend. He could tell from Phil's eyes that he had thought of something but was refraining from telling Dan about it. Just like Dan could read the air, he could read eyes: telling everything from the slightest twitch or glimmer. He paused for a while and inspected every inch his friend's expression and body language, watching the tiny twitches and shuffles.

"You've thought of something," he said, flatly, "Haven't you? And you don't want to tell me what it is."

Phil's breath caught and he sighed, hanging his head and kicking his shoe on the decking. He was struggling for breath, Dan could tell. Their air was running out. He wandered round in a circle once, biting his lip, until Dan took him by the shoulder and dragged him into a hug.

"Why aren't you telling me?" He whispered into his shoulder.

"Because… I don't think it's a good option," Phil replied, reluctantly, knowing there was no way he could avoid explaining, "And it might erase this whole journey… but it's the only thing I can think of."

"What is it?" Dan asked, softly, moving a hand to rest on the back of his friend's neck, attempting to soothe him enough to get him to speak.

"I thought… I thought maybe we should go through the barrier," he said, eventually, "We could get back to the computer and restart the system. It would get the game out of the Crash, but… it would erase everything that we've done."

Dan was silent. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew that it was true – leaving the world and loading from their last save was the only way to save everyone, and their last save was right before they arrived here. June would be a massive waste of time and they would have lost _everything_.

"Why did it have to happen now..?" Dan murmured, "Right after we'd fixed almost everything… we've been through too much here to just lose it all now."

And he was right. June had been eventful. February could be erased with almost no problem. It would doubtless be relieving to get back to normal and for Dil to still not know they existed, but June was the time when they'd fixed the mistakes they'd made, and even probably gotten to know _each-other_ even better. Erasing it would be traumatic, but…

"It's the only thing to do, isn't it?" Dan muttered, bluntly, and felt Phil nod into his shoulder. He breathed a sigh and slowly let go, "I guess we have to, then," he said.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be," Phil whispered, folding his arms, "It was going so well. We were going to leave peacefully after we were content, and that was going to be very soon, too. And now we're going to have to do it all over again."

"Or, of course, we could leave it," Dan suggested, quietly, knowing that Phil would hate the very idea, "And not come back."

Phil frowned, angrily,

"You know I don't want to do that," he hissed, "I'm not letting these entire two weeks go lost for absolutely no benefit. We came here for a reason, with a job, and I intend to finish what we started, even if it means going it alone. If that's what you were thinking."

"No, no, of course not," Dan answered, shaking his head, "I'd definitely come with you if you decided to come back… and if that's what you really think is best… I suppose this is it."  
Phil looked anywhere but Dan's face, staring at the grass, at the trees, at the clouds in the sky…

"Yeah," he nodded, "This is it."

"Should we go?"

"We should."

And they went. Wandering back to the forest and engaging in softly-spoken conversation to calm their beating hearts, but all in vain. They couldn't come up with any better idea, so they arrived at the barrier and stared up at its glassy surface with the same sense of awe they had the first time they saw it.

It never failed to fill them with a sense of trepidation and wonder every time. It was somehow still in-tact even after they broke through it back in February, perfect as everything else in this universe. Nothing about it made sense, but it didn't really need to; it was their gateway back to reality and the only tether they had to the real world, and now it was their only way to save _this_ world.

Seeing as the rocks were practically glued to the ground, the only way to get through was to shatter it with body weight, so with a sickening dread and regret, Dan took as deep a breath as he could manage and took his friend by the hand to leap through it.

The glass shattered with an ear-splitting smash and what felt like a vacuum started to drag all the air toward it in whirlpool-like fashion. Through the shards flying out into it, Dan could see the all too familiar sight of binary code circling like a tornado.

They only hoped their idea would work and that they wouldn't kill themselves or anyone else in the process.


	59. S A V E G A M E

**A/N: Ahoy!  
Today I got new gerbils! *fanfare* Their names are Moriarty and Magnussen and they're very cute and small and grey and I love them.  
And my tablet pen kinda broke which isn't as great of an announcement but y'know whatever.**

 **Ciao,  
-Whisker**

* * *

Dil Howlter didn't know exactly why he felt the need to go outside into the garden that night, but he did, so he went.

It was a chilly night and any person in their right mind would have stayed in bed where it was warm, but not Dil. He felt the uncontrollable urge to fiddle about with his satellite.

He looked up to the stars as he flicked a few switches. He wasn't even looking at what he was doing, but he was expecting anything, really; aliens, perhaps?

One thing he wasn't expected was for the fabric of the air to rip apart and for a whirlwind of coding to swirl about, forming around two figures with the numbers and pixels.

"Guys?" Dil hissed, bewildered, as his two creators fell to the ground in a sort of tangled heap, looking very dizzy, before the binary disappeared and the portal closed up with a _'vworp'._

Dan gave a groan and sat up, rubbing his head. Going through two barriers in such a short space of time was one of the worst feelings he'd ever experienced. For a worrying amount of time, he couldn't even tell which way was up, but one thing he could tell was that there was movement again. He tapped his friend on the back, frantically, but couldn't move his head to turn to him because of the giddiness.

"Wh- What were you _doing?"_ Dil questioned, remembering that he hadn't seen them both in the living room when he'd come out of the bedroom to head outside.

"You don't want to know…" Dan mumbled as Phil shakily sat up beside him, his arms wobbling like twigs in a storm when he leaned on them.

"I do," Dil insisted, folding his arms, "What do you think you're playing at, guys?"

Dan looked about the garden to see the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and gently creating tiny ripples on the surface of the pool water. The swish of the wind in the trees and distant bubble of the momentum conserver were suddenly very calming and reassuring. Everything had life at last, and there were sounds all around.

"Hey, we did it, Phil," Dan panted, swallowing, exhausted, and giving his friend a quick hug before turning to Dil, "What day is it?" He asked.

"Wednesday," Dil replied, sceptically, raising an eyebrow, One in the morning. Why?"

"Oh- oh, man, it worked!" Phil smiled, breathless, leaning on his arms to attempt to support himself. In fact he was so relieved that he gagged, violently, which wasn't usually something people did when they were excited, but going back and forth through dimensions messed up your whole system. Things happen.

" _What_ worked?" Dil demanded to know, tapping his foot on the decking.

Dan stood up and helped Phil to his feet, too.

"I'll tell you when we get back inside. Coming?" He hummed, heading through the back door and into the warmth of the house.

The air was stiller inside but still thinner and easier to breathe in than how it had been in the Crash. All Dan really wanted was a lie down and a blanket and his friend, but now he had to explain to an impatient Sim about how he could have killed them all.

"You won't have been affected by it," he started, woozily, addressing Dil as Phil wobbled his way to the nearest object he could lean on, which just so happened to be the kitchen counter, "…But the whole game kinda'… stopped."

"What?" Dil exclaimed, "What do you mean 'stopped'?"

"It crashed," Dan said, blankly, "Everything froze."

"What's going on?" Came Tabitha's voice as she appeared in the room suddenly, clearly abruptly woken up by the talking and her husband's scared-sounding 'what?'.

Dan looked to her, turning around a bit too violently and going dizzy again. He didn't want to explain anything to anyone right now, but if he had to choose between Dil or Tabitha, Tabitha was probably going to react a bit more reasonably.

"The game crashed," he repeated, "Phil and I were out for a walk… seeing the stars… everything just sort-of stopped. We didn't know what to do."

"Oh, you poor things!" Tabitha breathed. She walked to the sofa, picked up the blanket from it, wrapped it around Dan's shoulders and sat him down comfortably on the armchair.

She always treated him and Phil as if they were her sons and took very good care of them if they ever felt a bit unsteady or ill or if they needed to talk about something. Phil and Dan appreciated her care and concern, and the fact that she didn't fire questions at them, but rather made sure they were settled before letting them open up.

"At first we ran back here to see whether the satellite had anything to do with it," Dan explained as Tabitha flicked on the tea machine, "But even if it did, it was frozen just like everything else, so we couldn't fix it. There was no sound or movement anywhere except this… machine-like whirring; it was so surreal."

"So what was it?" Dil asked.

His wife frowned at him for carrying on the questions when Dan clearly wasn't in the right state for talking.

"Let him relax first!" She told him, seriously, pouring out two hot mugs of tea and handing one to Phil, who was currently on the floor, leaning against the fridge. Tabitha decided he needed something nice and warm so she went to fetch her duvet after giving Dan his tea.

"I don't really know why it happened," Dan mumbled, the steam from the drink drifting up into his face. He hadn't had any tea for a couple of days and it felt nice to have a warm cup between his fingers and the smell of leaves wafting up his nose, "…I suppose it just happens sometimes. We went back through the barrier in the forest to get back home to try and sort it out."

"We didn't want to at first," Phil added in a croak, "We thought it might force us to reload from our last save… and that was the day we came… it would erase all the data from these two weeks."

Tabitha returned then with the green duvet wrapped up in her arms.

"But it didn't?" She asked, confused, as she wrapped it around Phil's shaking form, making sure he was tightly enveloped in it and softly rubbing his back.

Phil shook his head, trying not to spill tea over his jeans.

"We got back home and found that it wasn't as bad as we had expected…" he said, panting slightly.

"It hadn't stopped working completely but it was lagging pretty bad," Dan elaborated, "Of course, time is completely different up there, so the game was only running really slowly, but right here, everything had stopped. As I said, you won't have been affected because you're part of the game, but Phil and I aren't, so we were kinda' stuck inside the lag," he added, sipping his tea.

"So how did you fix it?" Dil asked, sitting down on the arm of the settee.

"We managed to save in-between the pauses and rebooted the whole system," Dan replied, "It was a bit risky but it was all that we could do. We loaded the game and sent you to beam us back with the satellite. We didn't know if it would work, but I guess it did…"

Howell hoped that the cross-examination would end there and he could snuggle up with his friend on the sofa, under a warm duvet and finally get some sleep because he was getting really tired now after his ordeal. But of course the grilling wasn't about to stop just yet.

"What would have happened if you left it?" Dil asked, curiously, sounding very serious.

Phil didn't know why he was worrying so much; everything was fine now, why was he carrying on with the questions? He should be grateful that they were still alive. Yet Phil didn't speak up because he didn't have enough energy for complaining.

"I don't really know…" Dan sighed, "I suppose it would have righted itself in the end, but it wasn't great being stuck in the lag, and we didn't know what was wrong, really, so we tried to fix it anyway," and he yawned.

"Well, I think that's enough questions for tonight, don't you?" Tabitha spoke up, and Dil sighed before apologising, "…Why don't you two get some rest?" She suggested, addressing both Phil and Dan, "I can't imagine that traversing through dimensions does miracles to your internal organs."

Dan nodded, enthusiastically, glad to finally be able to get to sleep.

"Sure," he affirmed, "I'll just finish my tea."


	60. Aspartame

**A/N: I haven't a clue what this chapter is; I have a bit of a cold and my brain just kinda threw a load of words into a document and this came out... so you can read it now. If you have any idea where this book is going, please tell me, because I don't.**

 **Ta,  
-Whisker**

* * *

10:30am, Wednesday, Potter's Splay, Courtyard Lane, Willow Creek, _somewhere._

Dan wasn't in the mood for waking up, and neither was his friend. Being June, it was swelteringly hot, so the unnecessarily thick duvet had been tossed onto the floor in an unceremonious heap, knocking over any unfortunate object that happened to be under it when it slid off the sofa. It was a good job that any potential coffee or tea cups would have been empty because nobody wants to be responsible for brown duvet stains.

The Howlters were already up, and so was Evan, and they were all having breakfast already. Dan wasn't in the mood for breakfast, either. After the day they'd had yesterday, he wasn't in the mood for anything but lying right there on that sofa and not doing anything. He rolled over to find his friend half hanging off the settee, bent in an arrangement that did not look like any normal sleeping position for a human being, but conveniently cushioned by the blanket on the floorboards. He had strategically missed hitting his head on the table by about an inch, which was impressive because Phil was the sort of person who would not be able to avoid hitting his head on a coffee table when he was fully conscious, but somehow he managed to do it in his sleep.

Dan sniggered, quietly, and lifted him back onto the cushions so that his spine, neck, or any other very important bones wouldn't snap from the aforementioned absurd positioning. He was quite light and Dan could pick him up without much trouble, and somehow he managed to stay asleep.

"Are you two not getting up yet?" Tabitha called to them, quite loudly, and Dan's efforts to keep his friend asleep were all a complete waste of time, "I know you're awake; you can't stay there all day."

"I know…" Dan smiled, tiredly, stretching and yawning, his joints clicking in any place that joints could click, and maybe even some places he didn't _know_ could click.

Phil said something about this, but he was still half asleep so none of it was really perceptible, but Dan heard the word 'glowsticks' somewhere in the jumble of words that might as well have not been English.

"Oh, get over it," Dan sighed, knowing somehow what he was referring to.

The sun was streaming in through the window, and it had been from so early in the morning that the dust wasn't even visible anymore. What was the point in being awake if there was no dust to watch?

"Well, you'd better get up soon, or there might not be any cereal left-" Dil started, setting down a bowl beside the sink, and at the very mention of cereal, Phil was suddenly worryingly wide-awake, which was all well and good for everyone apart from Dan, who would now be abandoned to enjoy his dust-less sofa time by himself.

Even after everything that had happened yesterday, he and Phil had stayed up for quite a while to discuss their next move. It wasn't worth heading home just yet, without making every end meet, but it was also quite risky staying now that they knew that the game could lag or crash at any given moment, and they didn't fancy doing the portal thing again any time soon. This discussion had lasted until around 3am and had tired them out quite a lot. This was the reason that it was half past ten and neither of them had yet moved from the sofa (except Phil, because he was half-hanging off it but that doesn't count).

"Have we got any plans for today?" Phil asked, untangling his feet from the corner of duvet that had somehow not fallen on the floor and had instead decided to wrap itself around his ankles like a boa constrictor that had mistaken his legs for the neck of its prey.

"Not so far, no," Tabitha replied, watching him clumsily stand up, "I thought that you might need a lazy day today; what with your ordeal last night."

"What happened last night?" Dab asked, his mouth full of generic, non-descript flakes made out of corn and probably 5 other things that the cereal company didn't want to write on the box.

Phil turned to him and bit his lip, wondering whether he should tell him about the lagging, or whether that would scare him a bit too much.

Phil decided that he didn't mind if it scared him too much.

"Uh, the game just went a bit…" he started, but didn't know how to finish it so just improvised with some random arm waving and slight jazz-hands that were probably involuntary.

Dab did not quite understand this unasked for game of charades and stopped chewing on his cereal as if it was taking up too much of his thinking power and he had to stop so that he could focus all his energy into deciphering what on earth Phil was trying to convey to him. It did not make much difference… if any.

"What Phil is trying to say is that the game lagged and we had to go back and forth through the barrier to fix it," Dan explained, and though it was vague, it made more sense than jazz-hands.

Phil nodded in agreement.

"What game?" Evan asked.

Everyone in the room went very quiet as they realised that Evan didn't actually know that he was living inside a simulation and was occasionally partially controlled by his neighbour's childminder, 'uncle', 'family friend', babysitter thingamajigs who never really elaborated on who they were or why everyone seemed to do whatever they said. Knowing that Evan had a very intense interest in science, everybody decided mutually and through no words at all to not tell him just yet: just in case he decided to do some weird experiments on them.

"I'll tell you later," Dan told him. He knew that it would be safer to explain it himself because if Dil did, it probably wouldn't be very accurate, and if Phil did, there would predictably be more charades. Dan also didn't know when exactly 'later' was but he was sure he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Whenever it happened to be, Evan seemed pretty content with this reply.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to get home soon?" Dil hummed, changing the subject ever-so-slightly. He knew that his creators weren't the type of people to risk destroying a universe by being careless, and they'd probably want to head back to the 'real' world before anything major happened again.

Dan looked up to Phil with an expression like he was completely abandoning the responsibility of decision-making by asking his friend to resolve something instead, but still wanted to discreetly offer his opinion on the matter. Do not ask what this expression looked like, because there's no brief way of describing it, but if you were friends with someone for years, you just know what it looks like.

"I don't know," Phil said, shortly, "What do you think, Dan?"

Dan frowned at this betrayal. He had wanted no part in this judgment but here he was.

"As soon as we get everything fixed up," he decided, eventually, turning to Dil, "There's still Summer and Erica to try and make friends up with. Besides, we can't just up and leave without telling anybody else – that would be a bit suspicious."

"I agree," Phil affirmed, putting his hands behind his back. He supposed that he ought to be getting around to making ends meet with his acquaintances, too, instead of just lying around all day. Maybe today would be a good day for it.

Before anyone could say anything else, however, there came a moderately quiet knock at the door which probably wouldn't have even been heard if people were talking. Everyone in the room stared at the door as if they had never heard a knock before and wondered why somebody would want to punch their property with a fist. In actual fact, they were just staring because none of them were socially confident enough this morning to answer it.

Ultimately, the most awkward of them all answered because standing in silence was probably even worse.

"Hello?" Phil started as he poked his head around the doorframe after unlocking it with a click. Outside, right there in front of him, stood Summer Holiday: the very person that Dan had just mentioned.

"Hey..!" Summer grinned, gingerly, staring up to him. In her hands was a small box of chocolate, "I… Came to apologise."

"Apologise?" Phil repeated, as if he was confused by the very concept, "Why?"

"Well, for being so overwhelming and uncomfortable, of course," Holiday replied, handing over the box in her hands, "It wasn't fair on you for me to keep pestering you like that. Sunday went a bit fair; I could see that you were uneasy when you up and left quite quickly… so I came to apologise. And to give you chocolate – you like chocolate, right?"

Phil paused, stuck for anything to say. Saying 'sorry' and accepting apologises were pretty difficult things to do when you were a person who struggled to think of things to say in important situations.

"…Yes," he said, slowly placing a hand over his heart, "Thank you."

He found himself wrapped in two arms for a few seconds before Summer let go of him, gave a little wave, said 'I'll be seeing you around!' and then promptly left as abruptly as she had arrived.

Phil watched her go down the street as the confectionary in the purple box in his hands started to melt. It would be a job peeling that of the paper when it solidified later. Phil decided to go back inside before anybody walked past and wondered why he was standing in the doorway, looking like someone had just revealed to him the meaning of life, dressed in jogging bottoms and a t-shirt that hung off his skinny form as if it were 4 sizes too large for him, and holding a very small box. Not that anybody had a fantastically idealistic concept of him anyway.

"Is everything okay?" Dan asked in a voice sweeter than aspartame, getting up off the sofa at last. He pulled Phil away from the door and closed it behind him.

"Yeah; fine," Phil nodded, and he sounded like he meant it for once, "I guess that's one job done, then."

The quicker making up to everyone got done, the better. Then again, he was having the same feeling he'd had last time where he wasn't sure whether he really wanted to leave or not. On one hand, he did, because even though time was slower back home, it didn't stop, and if they stayed here for too long people would get suspicious. Phil didn't fancy anything going wrong and being stuck here for virtual months or even years.

On the other hand, he and Dan had already decided that this would be their last visit to the Sims universe, and he wanted to make the most of his time here.

Seeing as how nothing in this place ever played out how he intended, though, Phil supposed he didn't have much of a choice.


	61. I Hope They Like Me Now

**A/N:**

 **Me: 'Hey, let's write a nice long chapter explaining loads of stuff! It'll be so useful for the plot! Important stuff will happen! Maybe I'll even throw in some humou-'  
Petrichor: 'No'  
Me: 'What?'  
Petrichor: 'No. You're going to talk about Phil's eyes'**

 **And that's how this chapter was made.  
**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

Phil Lester seemed OK today.

Dil and Tabitha had taken the day off so that it would give him and Dan some time to recuperate, and so that the Howlters could spend some time together with Evan.

Dan was fond of the idea of going out after dinner, so he was occupying himself by browsing through the wardrobe to find something nice to wear. Or, at least, that's what Phil believed he was doing.

Phil, meanwhile, was doing his favourite job: washing up. It wasn't particularly his _favourite_ , so to speak, but it was the one that he found himself doing the most often for some unknown reason. And it kept his cold, spindly hands warm so that was a plus.

Washing up doesn't take much concentration as opposed to, say, tidying a bookshelf, so it gave Phil a while to think. Thinking was the thing that he did the most in this world, or at least when he wasn't with Dan.

He flicked the soap suds off his fingers, still quite distant, and turned to the left to pick up the hand-towel so that he could dry his hands. As he did, he stared down at the floor and walked in a circle, inspecting the drips of water on the tiles. He'd probably have to dry that in a second, too. As he looked up at last, he was met with Dan, standing pretty much right in front of him.

"AGHhhiii…" he yelped, trying to turn his little scream into a greeting, "…Hi…" he repeated, as if he meant to say that all along.

Dan tilted his head to the side, studying his friend's face in deep contemplation about… something?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Phil asked, bluntly.

"Why don't people like you?" Dan whispered in not-quite-reply. It was not the answer Phil had hoped for.

"Well, for the same reason you're staring at me like that, I should think," Phil replied, flatly, squinting slightly, "How am I supposed to know?"

"No, there's something about you that people either love or hate and I don't know what it is," Dan said, squinting back, "'Cause, like… _I_ like you... but some people don't. So what is it?"

"Dan, if I knew, I'd stop doing it," Phil sighed.

Dan shook his head and started to circle him like he was searching for something, which he kind-of was.

"It's not something you can change," he breathed, "Is it your eyes?" And he laid his fingers under Phil's jaw to tilt it upwards to see his eyes.

He was silent for a bit, thinking.

"It _might_ be the eyes… wide eyes… sharp. They're not even a colour. Nice, though," he decided, "But that's not all of it – what's the atmosphere that you emit that makes people have such a strong reaction to you? I don't get it. Evan looks like he doesn't know how to feel about you, Dil seems a bit scared, Erica hates you with a passion, but then other people feel completely opposite… what's with that?"

"People like different people," Phil replied, stepping away from him and folding up the towel to place neatly in the cupboard, "It's just a fact of life. There's nothing you can do about it."

"But it's such a strong reaction."

"As I say. People like people. People dislike people. What part of that don't you get?"

"How does it affect you? Mentally? How do you feel when people act like they're scared of you or downright dislike you?"

Dan wasn't properly answering anything that his friend asked, but Phil wasn't about to get impatient and snap at him, so he only shrugged.

"I don't expect much at all," he said, "Why should people like me? They're not obliged to. I get everything I do wrong. I think this whole thing is having a bigger affect on you than it is on me. Don't worry yourself; I'm not fussed. I'm different, I suppose – strange, maybe. People aren't used to me."

Dan chewed his lip, staring into those sharp eyes like little sea-green… worlds. Like cameras, maybe, that darted about and picked up everything. Like lenses. Detailed. You could get lost. Every emotion possible was swimming in those eyes.

Maybe people thought he looked psychotic. Did he look psychotic?

Nobody spoke, but Dan leaned closer until their foreheads touched. He remembered his story _The Urge_ , that was published in _The Amazing Book is Not on Fire_ , where he'd described those eyes as 'bright blue pools of life'. It was a sickly sweet thing to say yet somehow it was a surprisingly accurate description. Apart from the 'blue' part; they weren't quite blue today – it alternated.

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but clearly opted not to and instead bit his lip. He was uncomfortable probably. Dan broke eye contact to look down at his teeth. _The Urge_ wasn't that much of a stretch: those teeth were almost fangs already.

Every feature was so pointed and intense.

' _People like people. People dislike people.'_

That sentence rung in Dan's mind. There had to be something more to it… right? There was an air, definitely…

He looked back up to make eye contact and his deep, mocha eyes shimmered. It seemed for a second that he'd finally solved it and was about to say something deep and sentimental and probably really soppy, but he didn't. He sharply pulled away and took a step back.

"No," he said, ultimately, "It's the eyes."

"Yeah, I saw that one coming," Phil scoffed, turning around to make sure there was nothing else to be cleaned. Perhaps his sudden passion for making kitchen counters sparkly was what was so strange about him. _Who does that? Who actively hopes that something needs to be cleaned_?

Nothing did need to be tidied after all, which was just as well because he wouldn't have been able to as at that moment he was jump-scared by a sudden hug and almost had a mild heart attack.

"I thought you were walking away," he sighed, relaxing a bit.

"Changed my mind," Dan replied, laying his chin on his friend's hair. He was very thankful to have a best friend and tried to never take it for granted.

"You weirdo', Dan," Phil snickered. It was almost impossible to think that this gentle but clingy guy wrapped around him was the same one who had pushed him into a table a few months prior. The whole trauma and after-effects of February weren't something that really bothered Phil anymore. He was the sort to get up and carry on, prevailing past these things, even if they stuck around for a bit afterwards.

"Who has the _bestest_ friend in the world?"

 _Well. Here comes the sentimentality. The use of the word 'bestest', which isn't actually a word, was a clear indicator of that._

Phil thought for a while.

"Sherlock Holmes?" He suggested.

"No; it's me, you idiot," Dan retorted with a frown, without missing a beat, and let go, swiftly.

" _Ohhhh_ …" Phil hummed with a smirk as if he hadn't suspected that before the question was even asked. ' _You spoon_ ' he thought.

"What's this?" Dan asked.

"What's what?" Phil swallowed, turning about to see him standing beside the dining table, looking at something on it.

"A note…"

"It's nothing," Phil butted in.

"…Addressed to Summer?"

Dan picked it up and waved it in the air a bit. The look on his face was a mix of confusion and what could have either been jealousy or banter. Or both (however that was possible).

"As I said," Phil repeated, plucking the paper from his fingertips, "It's nothing. She came round with chocolates, I decided to write a thank you note. It's good to apologise for things that weren't even your fault in the first place – like we need with Eliza, remember? Keeps the peace. Stop being nosy, ok?" He huffed, but Dan grinned at him so he had to smile back.

"Sorry," Dan said, quietly. He knew he shouldn't annoy his friend, even if he was only teasing – at least not after yesterday.

Yesterday seemed like ages ago. So much had happened that day it could have easily been spread out over 4. So far today, though, everything seemed a whole lot calmer…

The only thing left to do, really, was attempt to get along with Erica and let their friends know when they left in the most inoffensive way possible. There were other things Dan was keen to investigate before their return home, though. One of these was Drago – the huge stuffed dragon in Dab's bedroom that somehow opened and closed its eyes when you weren't watching.

The most unnerving thing about this universe wasn't how peaceful and perfect it was, nor the people, nor the aliens or anything of that ilk: it was that stuffed toy. _What's its problem? Can't it just be a normal, non-sentient object? Why does it have to blink? Does the manufacturing company know?_ There were many questions Dan wished to answer. Investigating the dragon would have to wait until Dab was out of the house, though. It probably wouldn't be the best idea to let him know that there might be some… _thing_ watching him as he slept.

"Finish your little note, then," Dan decided, "We can head over to her house to post it later. Maybe we can go to Chez Llama for tea?"  
"I thought we were staying clear of Chez Llama?" Phil said, pulling back the black chair (even though it was usually Dan's) and sitting himself down, "You said so yourself. Remember last Friday when we took Dab and we ordered for whoever was sitting next to us?"  
"Great fun. It'll be even better now everyone's here. We can take Evan," Dan pointed out.

Phil supposed he was right. He twirled the biro on the table into his hand and fiddled with it between his fingers. He hadn't a clue how he was going to phrase this letter.

Anything that he was about to say would have been cut off, as just then the front door opened and Dil and Tabitha walked in, carrying two shopping bags. They'd been to the supermarket. They'd only gone for taco shells and milk but Dan wouldn't have been surprised if they'd returned with a ukulele and a cordless hammer drill.

"Swiggity swag; what's in the bag?"

"That's a strange thing to say, Mr Howell," Phil said, under his breath, from behind, but Dan paid him no mind.

"Food. Like we went out to get," Dil chimed in, plonking the bags down on the floorboards and shutting the white front door behind himself.

Not a cordless hammer drill, then.

"What have you two been up to whilst we've been out, then?" Tabitha asked. She was good and civil like that. Her first question was always about other people's welfare.

'Standing at an awkwardly close proximity', though, didn't sound very good out loud.

"Nothing," Dan replied. He flashed a glance to his friend as if to ask for permission to say something. Reading the atmosphere as an answer, he turned back to face Tabitha.

"We thought maybe we should… let you know about something that happened yesterday," he said.


	62. What's All This About?

Dan had taken Dil and Tabitha aside, into their bedroom, to tell them about yesterday, leaving Phil to stand and occupy himself in the living room.

He stood right in the middle of the room, at the end of the breakfast bar, and stared to his right to the bedroom door. He had occupied himself by putting the shopping away like Dan had suggested, but that didn't last very long, and now he was at a loose end. His heart was beating like a drum – he wanted to listen to what his friend was saying, but he didn't want to eavesdrop – he knew that Dan had only taken them out-of-the-way so as not to worry him or make him feel awkward and humiliated and so that he wouldn't have questions fired at him, but being on his own only really made Phil feel worse.

Dan was a good friend, though, and he surely wouldn't say anything to make the situation sound worse than it was. It had been pretty bad, though. Phil was one of those people who you could never imagine raising his voice, so it would probably seem a bit unbelievable at first. Dan could sugar-coat it well, though, and hopefully justify it without making Phil nor Dab seem like bad people. Dan was good with words. Most of the time.

Phil stared down into the fawn-coloured tea swirling in the blue mug in his hands. He felt ill just imagining drinking it. His nerves about what the Howlter parents would say to him were plaguing his mind. He put the cup down. He wasn't really a tea person anyway.

He could hear talking, and occasional raised voices, but he couldn't figure out quite what they were saying. Stuff about him, clearly. He felt guilty about everything that he'd done, even if he wasn't wrong to do it.

He'd been fine a minute ago – why did they have to do this _now_?

Being yelled at was not something anybody enjoyed, but for someone who had gone through February and everything that had happened in June so far, it was even worse than usual.

Phil heaved a sigh, wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the counter, sliding down it slowly and soundlessly until he was seated on the floor. He angrily rubbed his eyes with his palms and mumbled something incoherent to himself as he leaned back on his hands. He heard someone say something in the other room that sounded a tiny bit cross and his heart dropped like a brick. He was a mess of emotions at this moment and the time seemed to drag by.

The springs in the bed creaked and the sound of the door catch rolling echoed about the room. The first person to appear was Dan, who made his first move to head over to his friend.

"Hey..?" He started, quietly, crouching down and wiping a stray hair out of the way of his friend's eyes, "What's all this about? What's up, bud?"

 _"Are they mad at me?"_ Phil whispered, leaning forward a bit. He sounded unreasonably terrified.

 _"No, no, of course not,"_ Dan hushed him.

Phil didn't quite understand how this was possible, but appreciated it anyway. He relaxed - melting like a spoonful of treacle – and slouching forward.

"You're overreacting," Dan continued.

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them what happened."

"Elaborate," Phil ordered.

"There's not really much to elaborate on," Dan said, "Stand up, drink your tea and calm down."

Phil did as he was told, standing up on shaky legs. He supposed he _was_ over-reacting. He'd done a lot of that recently, but then again, everyone else had, too, so you could never really tell. In any case, he calmed down again strangely quickly and drank the tea even though he didn't usually like brown leaf water.

"If you're getting stressed," he heard Tabitha say, "You don't have to stay."

"Oh! No, no, no; I- I'm fine," Phil insisted, wide-eyed, his blood running cold, "It was a isolated incident; won't happen again, I promise you."

He was very sure of himself and what he said, and so was Dan, but Dil looked like he was slightly suspicious. Phil brushed off the doubtful look on his Sim's face and changed the subject.

"D- Dan and I were wondering whether we should all go out for dinner," he said – he actually quite fancied going out, being in the house wasn't quite his thing anymore – "But I thought we should confer with you two first."

"That's a good idea, actually," Tabitha agreed. She seemed to agree with pretty much anything that didn't mean sitting around doing nothing all day, "Where were you thinking?" She asked.

"Chez Llama," Dan replied, "Unless you can think of somewhere else?"

Tabitha thought about this for a bit. She could _not_ think of anywhere else, so she turned to her husband for some sort of concurrence, which he gave in the form of a nonchalant nod.

"That's decided then."

* * *

Nothing good ever happened here; why were they going back?

The first time, back 4 months ago, Erica Pendleton had been eavesdropping on their conversation and had picked up on the fact that the Howlter parents would be out of the house for a few days. Her having that knowledge hadn't ended well.

The second time, the world had felt woozy and an existential crisis began to make itself very, very apparent.

The third time, Pendleton had been there again, and they'd had to look after Dab all on their own. Volcano Pasta had also been a thing.

Whatever happened this time was bound to be just as awkward – if not more so. Then again, nothing in February went well, and neither did anything when left unsupervised with the kid – but at least it gave Dan an excuse to wear something fancy. He'd picked out a black shirt with velvety ebony baroque patterns, which he wore with an oil-coloured tie and a pair of white suit trousers which were bound to get stained by some sauce or other.

He looked down to the path and watched the stone blur every time he took a step. Was this really better than staying at home? When he finally looked up, he went dizzy for a second as his vision adjusted to see the tall, ornate door leading to Chez Llama. Surely the staff recognised them by now, they'd seen this sight so much.

Dan flicked his line of sight to his left to inspect his friend.

Phil seemed OK.

He was dressed in the same pastel blue suit he'd worn last time (it may still have had a spot or two of coffee on it from then, too), standing with his shoulder blades pushed back so that they showed through the fabric. At least it gave him better posture. His hair was brushed back into a raven quiff and his ashen skin was almost emanating a glow in the falling sunlight it was so pale.

"You alright?" Dan asked him, in the most positive tone he could muster, straightening the fringes of his jacket for him.

"Absolutely," Phil affirmed with a glimmer of a smile.

Dil and Tabitha walked through the door before them, closely followed by Dab and Evan. It was almost like Noah's ark where the animals 'went in two by two. Hurrah.' ('Hurrah'? What's so exciting about a pair of elephants? Strange song).

"Coming?" Phil hummed, stepping up the first stair and nodding his head toward the doors.

"Coming," Dan assured him, following at his right hand beside him.


	63. Freeze Ray

"So how's life back home?"

Dan's eyes shot up from the menu in front of him, and looking left, he raised his line of sight to Dil's face.

They were all seated at the very booth where they'd sat the first time they came back in February. Thankfully, there was no Erica opposite them this time, though.

"Back home?" Dan repeated, thinking. He couldn't quite remember what had been happening back in the real world; it felt like he'd been here for so long now. What _had_ been happening?

"We moved house," Phil put in for him, realising he was taking an awkwardly long time to reply, "We partly came to visit to get away from the stress of the move, really. You know, moving house is one of the most stressful things someone can go through. That's what I heard. Thought this might be a nice retreat."

"It didn't really work out the way you'd wanted, huh?" Tabitha hummed, biting her lip and looking a little bit guilty. Not that any of it was her fault.

Phil shrugged and turned away, casually, to go back to reading the menu, resting his chin on Dan's shoulder.

"Hmm. Guess not," he sighed. He didn't seem like he wanted to continue the conversation any longer.

"Anything else?" Dil asked, not taking his manner into account.

"I… can't remember," Phil swallowed, eyes widening and pupils contracting, "I honestly can't. You know, this… trip… has taken so long and so much energy, I can't remember anything about back home apart from the move…"

Dil was about to ask something again, Dab could tell. Dil wasn't very good at noting when somebody wanted to end a conversation – but then what could you expect from a creation of his particular creators.

"Don't annoy him, dad," Dab whispered, annoyed.

Phil smiled, contently, ruffling the kid's hair without even breaking his gaze from the menu. He took in all the smells and sounds around him: the noise of cutlery clinking against tableware, the soft chit-chat of toffee-nosed voices, the aroma of different food combinations drifting through the air from the kitchen right around the corner from their table and finally the most comforting scent of warm from his friend's clothes. Warm was an odd smell to define. Maybe it wasn't a smell at all. Maybe the smell of warm was an emotion. Safety.

Or maybe that was just thinking too deeply.

"What do you want?"

"That didn't need to be phrased so aggressively, Phil," Dan replied, "And the whole point of the ordering game is that you order for the person sat to your right. Why are you asking me what I want?"

"Oh, are we doing _that_ thing again?" Phil sighed, quietly. He didn't seem enthused, "And are we really calling it 'the ordering game'?"

"What do you want to call it? Menu Susan?"

"Watch it, Danny."

Dan gave a chuckle and looped an arm around his friend, tightly. He knew Phil wasn't truly annoyed because if he was, Dan's shoulder would be covered in bruises by now.

"You're to my right, Dan," Phil whispered, realising that he had the power to force feed his friend anything from the menu. He chewed his lip, pensively, but his thoughts drifted away from the decision at hand and instead focused on what had been going on before they arrived here on the 1st.

Apart from the move, not much had been going on. The last video they had posted had been a Sims episode back at the end of May – one about bowling, if his memory served – and that was really all he could remember.

Drinks had already arrived – their order had been taken a while ago – so Phil took a small sip of wine before swirling the drink about in his glass.

"Remember when we all went bowling? That was fun," he started, looking to his Sims out of the corner of his eye.

Dil looked a bit bewildered for a second as if clueless as to how Phil would know about the bowling trip, then he finally remembered who his creators were.

"O-Oh, yeah," he nodded, "I forgot that you knew about that."

"Know about it? Dan was the one who convinced you to freeze everyone in the building. Let's not forget that we micro-manage your every movement when we're not here. Oh, the things we've saved you from… and the things we didn't save you from…"

"Elaborate?"

"Awkward encounters, out-of-date food, alien abductions; you know, the usual. One time we had to stop you putting some food or other in your mouth that was excreting green steam two seconds before you ate it. Only just managed it. Don't know what the steam was all about… Then again…" Phil mused, wistfully, sitting up very straight,"Things worse than that were usually my fault, if not Dan's. Freeze ray incidents, interactions best left unmentioned, and things of that ilk. In fact, we discovered that it wasn't just your household that we could control-"

He stopped here as he noticed Dan's expression.

"Sorry, I was rambling," he said, slipping his blue jacket off to uncover his snug-fitting waistcoat. Dan noted his svelte figure and how his chest curved so trimly inwards. He'd definitely slimmed down since they'd been here – in fact, they probably both had. It was a good diet, this universe; maybe not the healthiest, but effective nonetheless. Maybe this could be one last good meal before they left.

"No, no, carry on," Dan encouraged him. He felt it was probably time that Evan knew about what happened, anyway.

Phil cleared his throat and looked down to Evan, who was sat two places to his left and struggled to throw out the words snagging in his throat.

"Evan…" he started, sounding and looking a tad unsure of himself, which wasn't a good way to start, "Before you were born, there was a small… fire… in your bedroom. You might have heard your parents mention something about the freeze ray. Well… that was our fault, too. An accident. It would have ended there, too, if we hadn't felt so bad about it…"

His breath caught as he saw Evan and Dab's expressions. Clearly Dab didn't know about their ability to switch between households, either.

Dan placed a soft hand on his friend's dipped back as if willing him to go on before it got awkward, and his subtle hint worked.

"We found that we could switch between households to manage anybody we like. We switched to your parents' house and made sure that they got a brand new bed… I don't know how to put this next part, but…" Phil stuttered, wringing his hands, " _You_ are kind-of our fault, too."

 _'Bad phrasing,'_ Dan thought to himself, _'But it'll do. No time to elaborate right now; here comes the waitress…'_

"May I take your order?" The waitress offered, with a look on her face that suggested that she remembered serving them before. Her silver hair framed her face and she looked down to her clients with an almost impatient air.

"Yes," Dil said, eager to get away from the awkward conversation that they had been having before. Apparently everyone besides Phil was decided.

Waiting in a petrified manner as the waitress went around the table, starting from Dil, who was sat the furthest away, Phil scanned his laser-like eyes over the small portion of the menu that he could see over Dan's shoulder. He picked the only thing that didn't look toxic.

"Spherised fruit gel… in a foam nest," he blurted out as the ice-cold stare of the waitress fixed on him, "Please."

To his relief, she moved on.

Phil gave a sigh and leaned back on the cushions behind him. His request had been a bit rushed and Northern, but it was as good as he could do and it sufficed. He hoped that his order wasn't noxious. He hadn't really thought it through as it was the first thing his eyes had caught on the page.

"Good job, you spoon," Dan snickered when the waitress had left their table, giving his companion a playful nudge on the arm. He leaned slightly on his shoulder and picked up his glass of white wine. It was getting dark outside by now eventually, and the candlelight added to the soothing ambience.

Phil gave a snigger.

"Hope you like fruit foam," he said under his breath.

"I'm sure I will. And if I don't, I'll force-feed it to you," Dan replied.

Phil had no doubt that he would. They'd have an awkward moment of Dan randomly spoon-feeding him at regular intervals and it was foreseeable that nobody else would understand that that would be pretty much normal. The refined wine-drinking would keep their appearance up until then, though, or at least they hoped so.

The group conversation turned to stuff more light-hearted, and Evan would tell Dil about his science experiments, Dab would draw away on the little piece of paper the restaurant had given him, and Phil and Dan would recite funny little anecdotes to Tabitha about anything and everything from the world above, from strange music teachers to The Amazing Tour is Not on Fire.

Every short story would strike a little cord in their hearts that played on their craving to be back home in their own beds with their own kitchen and no children running about their legs begging for attention. They could go home soon, they knew, and that knowledge kept them hanging on through whatever this world might throw at them. Especially Spherised fruit gel and freeze ray incidents.


	64. Up There Some Way

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's a bit short. Is anyone even reading this anymore? Who knows. I was so traumatized by the end of the PINOF bloopers that I couldn't focus on writing, but I'm sure you can relate to that.  
Alright, that's all.  
**

 **Toodles,  
-Whisker**

* * *

Phil's prediction about the awkward spoon-feeding had been correct. One thing he was learning, though, was to accept the awkward moments as they came and he'd figured out that the situations he found himself in and being silly was probably what fun is. He hadn't had fun in a while – not since the masquerade, probably – and he was enjoying being back to himself again. Even _he_ knew he was back to himself.

He was currently telling Tabitha and Dil all about _The Amazing Tour is Not On Fire,_ and every time he turned to listen to Dan say something, he'd be presented with another spoon of fruit gel, which had taken some getting used to, but now he actually quite liked it. It was just like the middle of a Turkish delight but with other flavours like melon or grape, and here and there a flavour that he didn't recognise.

"You should have seen the outfits we had," Dan grinned, thinking back to their glittery suits as he took a serviette and gently wiped a spot of foam from the side of his friend's mouth. Dan had also stolen some of _his_ meal, too. Not that it mattered, because he was busy feeding his friend plenty anyway.

"Mm-hh," Phil hummed, trying to say 'uh-huh!' without opening his mouth and failing miserably.

"We had canes!" Dan continued, enthusiastically, "And hats! Gold, sparkly top hats to go with the gold tail-coats."

Phil made a motion with his hands in front of his neck and mumbled slightly, trying to communicate something that would definitely be taken the wrong way if anybody but Dan tried to interpret it.

"You're right, Phil, we had bowties, too, didn't we?" Dan replied, sounding surprised as if he was shocked at himself forgetting about the tiny black bowties like it was some sort of criminal offence.

"Were they gold, too?" Dab asked.

"No, they were black," Phil replied, finally, swallowing.

"That's not as exciting," Dab sighed.

"You can't have everything," Dan frowned, "Besides, I like black; it's my _aesthetic_."

Dab was going to say something more, but he was cut off by somebody talking over a microphone. That had never happened before…

Phil's mind shot straight to a worst-case scenario as always: evacuation. He calmly covered up his internalised panic by sipping the last dregs of wine from his glass and placed it carefully on the empty plate in front of him.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" An aristocratic lady's voice announced from… somewhere, rattling through the speakers, "For those uninformed, today is a very special night!"

Dan was frozen, a spoon of foam wobbling between his soft, round fingertips, and Phil hiccupped and coughed at the same time in alarm. ' _Special night'?_ What was that supposed to mean? Was somebody getting married or something?

"Because tonight… is karaoke night!" The voice finished, excitedly, and everyone in the restaurant applauded, the clapping reverberating around the room, in approval.

Everyone, that is, save from the Howlters, their friend and their two creators.

"Of all the _possible_ nights!" Phil hissed, hiding his face in his hands. He knew that he wasn't obliged to get up and sing, but something told him that some way or another he would get up there anyway. He didn't remember Chez Llama ever having a karaoke machine, but he'd learned not to question anything in this world even back in February.

"Too bad Summer isn't here," Dan whispered to him, teasingly, "She would have loved to be your singing partner, wouldn't she?"

"Hey, well, she's not here," Phil retorted, shoving him away in a sort-of fake annoyance that may or may not have actually been fake. He didn't have many memories of past karaoke experiences, but the ones that he did have and remembered were not exactly his proudest moments.

"She's not," Dan repeated, nodding, thoughtfully, "But I am."

Phil could see where this was going and he dreaded the incoming request he'd probably receive. He was dreading even more having to get up anyway even when he refused.

"Come on; we can duet," Dan insisted, getting to his feet and forcefully pulling his friend with him.

"Dan, I- I can't sing," Phil tried to communicate, but was stunned into silence from the dizziness that struck him as he suddenly got up.

"Of course you can; I've heard you before," Dan huffed, putting a secure arm around him to keep him steady, "Now, will you?"

Phil flashed a terrified glance to the Howlters and Evan and the look in his wide eyes was the epitome of dismay, but the only sight he was met with was smug faces and nods of encouragement.

"Fine," he groaned, reluctantly, and Dan flashed him a slightly manic grin.

"Come on, then!" He chirruped, leading his best friend by the arm down to the other tables where they could look up to the stage. There, people were happily chattering between themselves and some were getting up to the stage where there was a karaoke machine with a screen set up ready for them.

"Won't the songs be different here?" Phil reasoned, his heart thumping from nerves, "We won't know any of them."

"That's why they have the lyrics," Dan said, flatly, "Come along now…"


	65. Sometimes

Another thing that Phil Lester had predicted right was the humiliation during and following his and Dan's 'performance'.

A round of strangely enthusiastic applause vibrated from every chair, table and pair of hands in the place and Phil took in a few panting breaths, trying to recover from the fast-paced beat he'd had to keep up with, and willing his lungs to finally stop asking for more oxygen. He weakly lifted his line of sight to Dan and flashed a smile; one with his tongue between his teeth and a glint in his eyes.

There was another thing he'd been right about. Fun. Being ridiculous and making a fool of yourself was… fun.

He'd never really considered singing one of his strong suits. At TATINOF, singing _The Internet is Here_ , was different. Then, it was all in front of people who knew him, even if there be a lot of them, but here nobody knew who he was save from the Howlters and Evan… Yet surprisingly, his and Dan's voices complimented each-other quite well. Even if his heart was pounding and his throat was aching and his lungs were begging for air, he still tried his hardest and kept a smile fixed on his face. It would have been difficult not to, really.

They'd been specifically asked up to sing a duet, and it went a whole lot better than expected. Better than _Yasuhati_ , in any case (though that wasn't saying much) and probably even better than TATINOF.

Wheezing slightly, Dan turned to look out from the stage and saw, sitting a the table right at the back of the room, Liberty and Travis: Summer Holiday's housemates. They only lived across the road so it wasn't surprising that they would turn up… but without Summer? No matter, though; the less people who knew them, the better. Thankfully, Travis and Liberty had only seen them in masquerade costumes and probably didn't recognise them at all.

"Coming?" Dan asked, offering his arm to help his friend step down to the floor.

"Yes, of course," Phil replied, softly, linking arms and getting off the stage as the clapping finally ceased. He felt just about ready to go home now, but there was still dessert to wait for people to eat before they left.

Before they could head back to their table at last and sit down for a rest and a breather, they were stopped by a slight hand tapping on Dan's shoulder.

It was Liberty.

"O- oh! Hello!" Dan smiled, politely, down to her, wondering what she could possibly want. She hadn't recognised them… had she?

"Dan, isn't it?" Liberty asked.

 _Oh, man... She had…_

"Yes…" Dan answered, sounding as if he was unsure of whether that was his name or not. He quickly turned to Phil, who looked just as confused if not more so, not even knowing what he was expecting, before looking back to Liberty.

"And you must be Phil," she continued, turning to Phil.

"Hallo!" Phil swallowed, then immediately regretted not just saying 'yes'.

"Summer got your note," Liberty smiled, "I see what she means about you. You must be very confident to get up there on that stage and sing like that-"  
"Well-"

"She likes you a lot, you know? I think she'd like you even more if she had been here tonight. Shame she wasn't, really. I just thought I should say hello, really; can tell her I've spoken to you."

"O- oh, well, say hello to her for me!" Phil grinned, "We won't be in town a whole lot longer, unfortunately, but if we were, it'd be nice to have another get-together like back in February."

"Oh, that was your party, was it?" Liberty hummed. Of course, she hadn't been there that time. She would have gone on but before she could say anything more or Dan could answer, she heard her name being called. It was Travis, evidently.

"Sorry, I've got to dash!" She smiled again, giving a little wave and bidding them goodbye as she walked back to her table. It looked like she and Travis were on a date. Obviously, Summer had taken a break with trying to win him over. Maybe she finally got the point: you can't swindle people into liking you.

"Right, let's go," Dan said, decidedly, tugging at Phil's sleeve, "There's dessert to eat, remember?"

* * *

The whether outside was cool but not freezing cold. The street lights dimly illuminated the pathway and the atmosphere was silent and calm.

Along the road strolled six pairs of feet, their footsteps breaking the silence and echoing along the street as they made their way from the white, opulent restaurant.

"That went well," Tabitha mentioned to her husband as they led the way with their child and his friend close in tow, "Don't you think?"

Dil agreed wholeheartedly. Any situation where food was present was good by his standards, but he knew what his wife meant. Their house-guests had finally loosened up and talking about their stage show, experiences and their book had seemed to help them.

Tabitha turned her head to look behind to where their creators should have been following along with them, which they were. They were going along humming a song and having a little bop, making a fool of themselves.

"They'll catch up," Dil said, shaking his head and snickering. He wanted to get home out of the chill as soon as possible and watch some TV. His wife shrugged and they carried on walking, Dab and Evan talking as they strolled behind them.

The Howlters were used to their lodgers getting carried away with novel things like these when they were both in a good mood. Most of these occurrences took place at night.

Dan couldn't wait to get home, either.

Real home.

He was content here, sure, in this idealistic world, but sometimes all you needed was a touch of imperfection. Maybe that was why so many things went wrong: they were unnerved by the faultlessness and begging for some balance.

Though, that didn't excuse anything that they'd done.

"Tired?" Dan asked, kindly, walking backwards to that he could face his friend.

"Tired? It's only nine-thirty," Phil replied, stretching, but then he yawned and it was clear that it didn't matter that it wasn't even 10pm yet.

"Come on," Dan giggled, urging him to carry on walking a bit faster.

The feeling about was one like an urge to sit down on the grass and stay there, content and happy, until the sun rose again. Sometimes, in this world, doing nothing was sometimes the best thing to do.

Potter's Splay was beckoning them to come into the warmth and light and curl up on the sofa in comfy sweatpants and oversized T-shirts, so they wandered along still.

Phil flicked a glance to his companion and smiled as he started humming to the tune of the song that they had sung not too long prior. His mouth tasted of bitter chocolate and 'Soft Shadow Avornalino': the chef's choice of wine that night. He clicked his tongue in thought and wrung his hands until they tingled as the blood rushed back into them.

"We'll go home soon," he whispered. He had constantly repeated this to himself over the past few days and kept repeating it to himself still. Dan assured him of it, too, frequently. It was their one little glimmer of hope that got them through all the encounters and experiences that they had here.

"We will," Dan nodded, confidently, "But right now, Dil's house is our home, and we need to learn to relax there."

"I agree."

"And you're alright?"

Phil gave a chuckle,

"Of course I am," he answered, surely, "I don't think I've been better."

Dan grinned, stopping, turning about and taking his friend's fragile hands, pulling his arms over his shoulders.

"Up," he ordered.

Phil held as securely as he could. He hated piggy-back rides but his legs were aching, so he hopped up and hung on.

" _You idiot,"_ he laughed under his breath.

"Don't pretend you hate it," Dan corrected.


	66. Night-times

**A/N: Guten Tag. Sorry I haven't updated in a while (is anyone even reading this still?)  
** **I kind-of lost motivation because most of my readers have either disappeared mysteriously or drifted away from the Phandom (whether that be temporarily or permanently, which is fine because it's up to them what their interests are, but it looks a little bit lame from a distance to be writing a story that nobody is reading.  
But anyway.  
It's updated now and if you're there... you can read it.**

 **Toodles**

* * *

"I've figured it out."

"Figured _what_ out?"

"What I was wondering earlier. About people's differing attitudes towards you."

"I didn't think there was much to figure out," Phil yawned, putting his arm over the blanket draped over him and looking across to his friend.

Dan was seated by his feet, on the edge of the sofa, and looking to him out of the corner of his eye.

"It's not the eyes," he said, decidedly. He sounded like he had thought this through a lot, and he probably had.

"What is it, then?" Phil asked, raising his eyebrows in scepticism. He was still tied to his belief that it was human nature to dislike some people, and in a way he was right, and he didn't fancy pondering over it so much to attempt to find anything deeper, because in his head there wasn't. The look on Dan's face made it out that _he_ had other ideas.

"It's the fact, I think, that nobody can ever tell what you're thinking," Dan told him.

Phil was silent. He supposed that this was right, but when could you ever tell what _anyone_ was thinking?

"So… it _is_ the eyes?"

"No. No, you just stand there. You stand and stare at the middle-distance and never talk to anyone about how you're feeling. Not to anyone but me, of course," Dan replied, "And with the way you've been acting recently, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a bit of an atmosphere around you."

"Is it less so now?" Phil asked, averting his eyes to look out of the window at the glimmering stars in the black sky outside. You could always get a good view here.

"I think so," Dan nodded, getting to his feet, the springs in the sofa creaking as the weight left them, "I've missed you."

"Missed me?" Phil repeated, perplexed, "I've been here the whole time."

"Maybe physically, but… that wasn't you."

"Am I me now?"

"I think you are, yes," Dan smiled.

He checked the time (late) made sure everything was as it should be and that there were no dangerously-placed half-full cups sitting around waiting to be spilled, and then lay down in his cave of pillows, cushions and blankets on the floor beside the settee. He could hear the sounds of the Howlters asleep peacefully in their bedrooms, and knew that Evan, too, would be fast asleep in his bed back home, across the road. They'd dropped him back home after Chez Llama and both Eliza and Bob seemed happy to see that he was still alive and well – you could never be too careful when leaving your child with Dil's family.

Everything was very peaceful and placid and everyone was fully sated after their meal out in the restaurant. It was no wonder they'd gotten to sleep so fast. Or at least, 3 of them had.

"Funny, isn't it?" Phil purred, his voice sounding like an engine.

"What is?" Dan breathed, looking up to him from the floor.

"How we care so much," Phil replied, blankly, and turned over with a ruffle of bed sheets, "Goodnight, Dan."

"Goodnight," whispered a slightly astounded Dan.

* * *

That next day – Thursday – had an objective: a mission to find Erica and make ends meet finally.

It had been easy enough with Summer – even easier with Eliza – but Erica was tricky. One of her traits was 'evil', as Phil remembered, and that's not really something that pairs well with 'friendship'. Not that they had to be friends, of course, just as long as they stopped being such profound enemies, that would be good enough. But fixing the relationship (or lack thereof) that they had now wasn't going to be easy.

"You really think we can do it?"

"Of course," Phil said, firmly. He had decided that he wasn't about to go home without sorting out one of the issues that he and Dan came here to fix, and he wasn't going to do it alone, either. This was, and had to be, a team effort.

It still wasn't clear exactly how they were going to find Erica and reason with her, but calling from Dil's phone was definitely not an option. They wouldn't have a _chance_ if Erica thought that it was _Dil_ calling.

Phil recalled the strange kindness that Pendleton had shown to him when they met at Magnolia Promenade on Monday. She had seemed… confused, almost. Curious was probably the most apt word. And maybe being 'kind' was a way of making sure that Phil didn't avoid her and she could observe him a bit, which was a tiny bit strange, but you couldn't expect anything or anyone to be normal here. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as first expected. Or perhaps it would. Only time would tell.

"When do we start?" Dan enquired, leaning forward on the breakfast bar.

Phil looked back to him, coolly, and licked the last bits of peanut butter off the stainless steel spoon in his hand.

"Whenever," he shrugged with a click of his tongue, and went back to eating peanut butter out of the jar. Dan would have stopped him, but he was mainly just glad that he was eating something that wasn't dry cereal.

The time was about 11am and Dan had a few ideas of what to do. The first time they'd come across Erica had been years ago, in the park. They would check there first to see if she was about, and if she wasn't, they could head downtown to the shopping district. There was a bar there and the museum, and they seemed like good places to look, too. Wherever they looked, though, there had to be another reason for going; if Erica happened to be there and asked them 'what are you doing here?' they couldn't just answer with 'looking for you', talk to her and then leave – that might be a bit stalker-ish – so there had to be another reason for going. The park was simple enough, but a museum wasn't the sort of place you just went to without reason. In which case, it might take a good while to actually get anything done.

In other, shorter, words: they might have to pretend to look at some art and drink a bit for a while to look less awkward.

Maybe it would be fun.

Dan drummed his fingers on the worktop as he thought about when to head out. His thoughts fell away from this subject, though, and drifted to last night.

"Care about what?" He asked, suddenly, lifting his head.

"Pardon?"

"Last night. You said it was funny 'how much we care'. Care about what?"

"This," Phil replied, sticking the spoon in his mouth so he could stretch his arms out to indicate that 'this' meant 'everything', "It's just a game but we care so much," he managed to mumble with a mouth full of peanut butter.

"We created it, I suppose. It's not supposed to be possible, being here and everything, and I guess that just makes it… special. Like our own little family," Dan reasoned.

Phil smiled and closed his eyes,

"Very special," he agreed.


	67. Hello!

**A/N: Greetings! Petrichor is back from its short hiatus with one singular reader as far as I know (hey how ya doing?) seeing as everyone else isn't feeling very good.  
I hope they get better very soon (you know who you are. If you're reading this you're obviously feeling a bit better... so, uh... hi)  
Ahchhc I don't have anything else to say ;-;**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

The Blue Velvet Nightclub had turned up no results in Phil and Dan's search for Erica Pendleton, and the gym seemed too threatening to enter, so a quick snoop through every window available would have to suffice. Of course, the Willow Creek Commercial District wasn't the only place that it was possible for Pendleton to be, but it was a good start. There was still Magnolia Promenade and the whole of Oasis Springs, but searching far and wide might seem a little bit stalker-ish, so Willow Creek would have to do.

It was a small world, and that wasn't just a saying: the Sims universe was, of course, a lot smaller than the 'real' one. Even if Willow Creek turned up no results at all, Erica was bound to run into them some day before they left.

In any case, at this current moment, Howell and Lester were stood in the Municipal Muses Museum and remembering last time they were here back in February.

Dil had taken them upstairs then to see a canvas painting of a teapot and some apples that he had named. It was whilst they were admiring the art that Erica and Summer had appeared to complain at them because Dil hadn't invited Erica to the house party. That had been an awkward conversation. Promptly afterwards, they had all headed outside with Tabitha and Dab to sit under the cherry blossoms and watch the stars as they appeared. That was probably the most relaxing thing that had happened on that February trip, which wasn't saying much.

This time, though, it was mid-day and there would be no stars to watch; only paintings and sculptures to admire. Even if they didn't find Erica, visiting the museum was a nice thing to do.

Decorations and exhibits inside were… minimal… to say the least. A bit bare and a bit under-whelming, maybe, but what they did have was just about worth looking at: there was even a suit of armour and some decorated shields. Last time, nobody had really taken the time to stop and look around apart from Tabitha and Dab, so Dan decided that it would be pleasant to take that time now.

Museums were places where you were supposed to be quiet and silent, so he and Phil were, but that didn't mean that they weren't both 'talking': sharing feelings – or rather thoughts – between them. About Erica, mostly. There wasn't much to say. Neither had a plan of what to say if or when they did see her next, so the 'plan' was just to go along with it. Neither of them would remember the script if they had made one, anyway.

Dan inspected the brush strokes on the paining on the wall in front of him, looking as if he was really appreciating the fine art, when in fact he was just thinking and keeping an ear out for any sound of Erica, though he could hear none. The museum was completely empty downstairs today.

Dan turned to his friend beside him – whose line of sight had drifted over along the wall to the shields and a strange porcelain dog thing – and gently tapped him on the shoulder.

"Phil," he whispered, not taking his hand away until his friend looked back up at him, "I'm going upstairs. I'll have a quick look around for Erica, too. Are you coming?"

Phil looked thoughtful for a while, chewing his lip. He flashed a glance to the doors for a split second before replying, "I think I'll stay down here a bit."

"Gotcha," Dan smiled, ruffling his hair a bit for some reason he himself didn't even know, and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he strolled upstairs.

Phil fixed his hair as he watched him go, thoughtfully, and walked away from the painting he had been standing at. Staring at art wasn't really his thing and there were no dog paintings in this museum and no Dan to play the game with anyway. The one thing he did want to do was look outside and remember February when he and Dan sat on the dewy grass and just kind-of… looked at the sky… which sounded a lot less interesting in theory but it had actually been quite nice at the time.

Phil stepped out of the doors at the back of the building and onto the porch where there was a white piano and a drinks bar. He wished he'd dragged Dan out here – maybe he could have sipped a cocktail as Dan played a beautiful melody. Alas, no. Phil realised he didn't really know how to make cocktails anyway, so he looked to his right to see some park benches and one of the three cherry blossom trees. He was about to step down from the porch onto the grass, but before he could, he heard the front door to the museum opening, loudly. The curiosity was killing him, so he couldn't help but peek around the corner to see who had entered.

He couldn't decide if he was surprised or not.

After all, every time he'd been here, so had she.

"Hello."

Erica turned her head sharply to look to him with a very surprised expression on her face.

"Phil, isn't it?" She frowned, but she didn't seem angry.

"Y- yes," Phil stammered, whishing he'd waited until Dan had come back downstairs, yet here he was, once again finding himself the one who had to deal with talking to people.

"Where's Dan?" Erica asked.

"Upstairs."

"And you're..?"

"Loitering," Phil put in, swiftly, stepping back inside, "Sorry. I… _We?_ Do I mean we? _I_ … was kind-of hoping you'd turn up. We're heading home soon. You know who Dan and I are, don't you? What we do?"

"Entertainers?" Erica suggested, appearing to be a tad confused at this question. _Who they are? What they do? Why was this relevant?_

Phil shook his head and waved his hands around, frantically, as if he was trying to swat away hundreds of invisible moths.

"No, no, no; that's not what I meant," he corrected himself with a sigh as the invisible moths stopped bothering him, "I meant… more what we are to Dil. If you know, you'll understand."

Erica thought for a bit.

"Puppeteers," she decided, and saw Phil's eyes widen in some sort of indescribable emotion that was a mix of about 4: surprise, affirmation, thought and _something_ else like he'd seen a ghost or maybe the latest internet drama.

"You could put it that way," he nodded, "Yes. Creators."

He was still stood quite far away so he walked a bit closer, moving to stand in front of the staircase.

"Who told you?" He asked.

"Nobody. You if anyone. I heard your conversation in Chez Llama on Friday."

Phil cleared his throat. He'd known all along that she had been watching. Explains why she had seemed so fascinated with him when he had met her on Magnolia Promenade.

"I thought it was about time we apologise, so on behalf of Dan, the whole Howlter family and myself… we're very sorry. We're problematic and Dil hasn't a clue how to express common decency and Dan and I are usually the ones controlling him, so I suppose we're responsible for a lot of the things he's done… I don't know what gets into us because I know that we ought to be more responsible, but this? This isn't us. That isn't who we are," Phil said, and put his index fingers to his temples with a sigh, "I just thought it was time we ought to start over, you know? Introduce ourselves as our own people. Seeing as we're going home soon, I thought it was about time we try to make up," he explained, dropping his arms to his sides and looking hopeful, his eyes glimmering.

Erica stared back at him. She was either shocked by the huge amount of dialogue, which was probably the longest lot of words that Phil had ever said to her, or by the actual content of the exchange of ideas. Maybe she'd never been truthfully apologised to before.

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand, "I'm Erica and I'm sorry, too."

"For what? I've never met you before!" Phil laughed, taking her hand in his and shaking it, "I'm Phil, but sometimes I go by 'Stop Eating my Cereal' or something along those lines."

Erica seemed to laugh a bit at this as she let go of Phil's hand and for once it seemed like she wasn't going to let her 'evil' trait show.

"Oh! And this'll be my housemate…" Phil hummed, hearing shy footsteps coming down the wooden steps behind him. Sure enough, when he looked out of the corner of his eye, it was Dan, "Come introduce yourself!"

Dan was a little bit bewildered at why on Earth he would have to introduce himself, but he supposed he trusted Phil enough to go along with whatever scheme this turned out to be.

"Dan," he said, shaking Erica's hand quickly, "Phil's best friend," he added, unreasonably proudly.

"I'm Erica; nice to meet you," Pendleton replied.

"What's going on here, then, Philly?" Dan enquired, gazing down slightly at his housemate.

"Oh, I was just introducing myself. Should we be leaving?"

"N- not really. We might need to have a talk – do you want to step outside."

Phil nodded, seriously, and tilted his head toward the door to indicate that he'd be out soon. As Dan walked away, he looked back to Erica and smiled.

"Feel free to come around for tea sometime," he offered, "Potter's Splay, Courtyard Lane, Willow Creek."

"I'll be sure to pop round," Erica smiled back, and gave a wave as Phil hurried to catch up with his best friend.

"How did you do _that?"_ Dan hissed, amazed, as they neared the back door.

Phil grinned, closing his eyes, contently.

"I think maybe it _is_ the eyes."


	68. Drago

Erica had stayed in the Municipal Muses Museum a while after her and Phil's exchange. She'd headed upstairs to think and admire the things around her whilst Howell and Lester hung around outside. She peered out of the window as she passed it and craned her neck to see beneath the balcony to the piano outside and saw her two 'new' acquaintances. One – Dan – seated at the instrument, and his friend standing beside him. They were either having a conversation or a duet.

Dan had missed playing the piano more than he realised. There were a few things that he missed from back home, but he didn't for a second consider his piano as one of them. The few friends he had besides Phil, sure. His bed, sure. His laptop and his sofa crease, sure. But never did he think to himself, 'man, I really miss my piano…', but now he realised how much he subconsciously had, in fact.

He stroked his fingertips over the keys. This piano was a lot fancier than the one he had back home. He played the first few notes of a song called Ingénue, thoughtfully, before promptly stopping.

"As I say…" he started again, resuming the sentence that he had left before he had started playing the piano, "There isn't much else we need to do here, really. We can head home as soon as you like."  
He lifted his head to stare up to Phil, who looked as pale as death (as per usual) and watched his eyes flick to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Phil murmured, sounding hesitant, as he raised his eyebrows, "It doesn't seem like we ought to leave yet. It seems like everything's resolved itself quite quickly… _too_ quickly. Isn't there something we're missing here?"

Dan looked back down to the ivory keys and gave a drone of contemplation.

"I suppose there was one thing I thought we should do," he replied.

"Which is?"

"Investigate Drago."

Phil averted his gaze, sliding his thumbs through the belt-loops on his jeans.

"Forgot about that…" he said, flatly. He received no reply, but soon heard a tinkle of piano. It still wasn't certain what exactly Drago _was,_ but whatever he or it was, it wasn't an innocent children's toy. No kid's toy blinks of its own accord.

"Sit," Dan ordered, out of the blue, and before Phil could ask where, dragged him down to sit on his knee, balanced very precariously.

"Dan, I'm not sure this is a good idea," Phil snickered, feeling very awkward as his friend put an arm around him to hold him steady.

"Hmm. I was thinking," Dan went on, completely ignoring him, "Maybe we ought to take the Howlters on a family day out to the bowling alley as one last day out before we head back home."

"That's such a lovely idea, Dan," Phil said, "Now if you would kindly let me stand up, that would be _ace_."

Dan sniggered, gave his friend a tight hug, and let him go, which Phil was very grateful for; he decided he really wanted to go back to Potter's Splay, investigate Drago and have a cup of tea, so he brushed himself off, stared at the piano, pressed the G note once and promptly strolled back into the museum, leaving Dan making some sort of strange, strangled noise.

* * *

When the duo returned home, They found a little note from the Howlters propped up on the kitchen counter. Or, at least, _Dan_ found it; Phil had completely blanked it out, as as soon as he had gotten inside, he had taken his shoes off and collapsed on the sofa because it had been very hot outside and all that walking had tired him out.

The note told Dan that Dil and Tabitha had taken Dab down to the park to go fishing in the lake and let the kid run around the place and such, which was actually perfect because that meant that nobody was around to wonder why they seemed so suspicious of the stuffed dragon in Dab's room.

Dil and Tabitha never seemed to notice Drago's strange blinking – there was no point asking anyone to help because Dab wouldn't care, Dil would be busy and Tabitha was already in too deep. Whether that was to do with her childish trait was irrelevant; that dragon received more kisses and cuddles than her own husband did. Probably. There was no tally, but it certainly felt like it.

"They're out," Dan said, matter-of-factly, assuming that his friend knew what this meant.

He did.

"When do you think they'll be back?" He asked.

"No clue," Dan replied, laying the paper down, "But we better make the most of it."  
Phil agreed and reluctantly picked himself up from the sofa. Out of everyone, Drago probably freaked _him_ out most. Just the thought of having somebody or something watch one of his family members every day sent a cold chill down his back like somebody running an ice-cube on his spine. Or maybe not like that… he had never really had somebody run an ice-cube on his spine so maybe he wasn't one to say what that was like. Dan had once shoved a handful of ice down his shirt, though – that wasn't fun. Phil decided to stop thinking of frozen blocks of water and instead trailed after his housemate into Dab's bedroom.

Drago sat in his usual place in the corner, with his eyes peacefully shut as if he was having a lovely little nap.

Both Phil and Dan sat down, abruptly, on the carpet in front of him and squinted at his closed eyes. They didn't know when they would open again, but they wanted to be there for it. perhaps the staring would establish them as the superiors of the house. Yet Drago just sat and did nothing.

"He's not opening his eyes," Phil whispered after a good few minutes.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Dan hissed, sarcastically, giving the toy a poke on his blue snout.

"He looks sad," Phil noted.

Dan did not quite understand how his friend gathered this suspicion, or why he sounded so definitive about it. To him, Drago just looked… asleep.

"How do we cheer him up? He might open his eyes then," Phil proposed, but by the look on Dan's face, he assumed that his housemate didn't agree, "…A hug?" He suggested.

"You go ahead if you want to do that, mate," Dan answered, letting his eyelids fall half way down his eyes as if to accentuate his opposition to this idea. It seemed, though, that there was no other option for his friend, so Phil leaned forward and awkwardly held the stuffed dragon in the hopes that his eyes would shoot open and his and Dan's suspicions that Drago was sentient would be confirmed as correct.

"Try petting him," Dan said, waving his hand as if he was patting an invisible dog.

Phil frowned, discomfited, and uneasily stroked the toy's back, wishing he'd never suggested hugging in the first place. The next thing he heard was a shocked exclamation from Dan, who had gotten mixed up with the words 'eyes' and 'open' and instead had blurted out 'OPEYS' whilst flapping his hands like a distressed chick.

Phil fell back onto his elbows, leaning on the floor, and stared up to Drago's face with a mix of shock and horror that somehow his eyes conveyed perfectly.

 _"What did it look like?"_ He whispered, as if the dragon couldn't hear him if he spoke under his breath.

 _"Uhhhhhh it looked like eyes opening,"_ Dan whispered back, equally as surprised.

 _"Do you think the hug helped?"_

 _"I_ think _so… Does with me."_

" _What do we do now, then?"_

Dan bit his lip as he contemplated this enquiry. He hadn't thought this far ahead.

"Well, now we know he's sentient," he said, flatly. This did not answer Phil's question.

"Should we fight it?"

"No, no, no! We need to make _peace_!" He corrected, grasping Drago's clawed paw and shaking it, "My name is Dan and this is Phil. We were just wondering whether you were a government spy or something of that ilk."

Drago did not answer but stared straight ahead into the middle-distance as if pondering life, the universe and everything contained in it.

Dan said no more, as right then he heard the front door handle clicking and both he and Phil scrambled to their feet and fell over each-other, stumbling back into the living room.


	69. Tiny

"Did you find her?"

"No hello?"

"Sorry; hello - did you find her?"

" _She_ found _us_ , I think."

"You spoke to her, then?"

"We certainly did," Dan nodded.

The Howlters had only just stepped through the door and yet Dil had already struck up a conversation and Dab had immediately headed to the kitchen with Tabitha, carrying… something.

Phil took it upon himself to explain to Dil everything that had happened, in as little detail as possible, and Dan – having nothing to add to this conversation – decided to investigate whatever it was that the kid and his mother had brought into the house.

"What've you got there, kiddo?" Howell inquired, peering over Tabitha's shoulder as she found a Tupperware box, took the lid off and lined it with layer upon layer of kitchen roll.

Dan's question didn't really need to be answered, as Dab then opened his cupped hands and put down, especially gently, in the box, a very little chipmunk. In fact, it looked like a baby one, it was so small.

"Wha-" Dan started, confusedly, "You can't just go adopting new pets – isn't Susan 2 enough? Where did you even _find_ this?" He stuttered.

"In the park," Dab replied, seriously, getting some milk out of the fridge, "He's injured. He has a broken leg, mum says."

Dan was silent and Tabitha gave him a knowing look. Dan knew what this look meant; it was an expression of not wanting to say something aloud for the fear of breaking someone's heart, but still needing to express this sadness to someone who shared your thinking. Dab seemed unaware of this silent exchange, though, and went about pouring a tiny bit of milk into an old baby bottle. How this would help the chipmunk pup was unknown, but the kid filled the bottle anyway and offered it to the tiny, fluffy, shaking animal.

Dan left him and his mother to it and turned about to look to his friend in a sort-of worried way, hoping to get some help with what to say when the inevitable happened. He always consulted with his friend over things now, because as he'd told him a couple of nights ago, they were supposed to be a team.

They made eye contact and mutually decided to step to the side, out of the way of everyone else, and have a little chat.

" _He's brought an injured baby chipmunk home,"_ Dan whispered into his friend's ear.

 _"He's what now?"_

" _He's trying to help it, but…"_

Phil swallowed, pulling away and tilting his head to the side. He knew what Dan was implying and it wasn't good. There are few things more disheartening than watching a child trying to save a helpless animal that could never make it.

"I can feel my heart shattering already," Phil said, biting his lip but looking only tired and melancholy. He shot a glance over Dan's shoulder to see Tabitha and Dab in the kitchen behind him, and Dil walking up to them now, too. This was something that happened in TV shows, films and books a lot, and it was hardly ever that things worked out too well. It was true, though; just thinking about it made Phil's heart crumble like a badly-made pie crust.

"What do we do?"

"Well, there's nothing much we _can_ do," Dan mumbled. He was feeling exactly the same way as his housemate. He had a great amount of affection for Dab – after all everyone had been through together – and wouldn't want to see him heartbroken, but it looked like that was how it was going to turn out, and everyone but the kid knew it.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, only communicating in thought and cynical glances, until it was decided that the best thing to do was just let whatever happened happen.

"Good news, though!" Phil started, loud enough for everybody to hear, "Seeing as we've fixed up our friendships, we can leave practically as soon as we like."  
"And that's _good_ news?" Tabitha replied, raising an eyebrow. She seemed quite attached to the Creators – at least more than Dil was – and didn't look keen for them to up and leave as soon as possible, especially considering all the help they had been.

Phil didn't quite know how to respond to her question at first, and let the first thing that came to his head leave his mouth.

"Better news than _that_ ," he retorted, gesturing to the lidless Tupperware box on the countertop with a mix of annoyance and sadness. He realised this was a bad thing to say when he could feel everyone's eyes drilling into him and he dropped his hand back down to his side, "…That's not what I meant to say."

"It's alright," Tabitha assured him, and Dan laid a hand on his shoulder to second that.

"What I mean to say is that everything can get back to normal once we've gone. Every time we're around, chaos follows us, so it'll be a relief to get us out of the way, right?" Phil coughed, stretching to try and bring everything back together, even though it wasn't really working, "But we don't _have_ to go right now, of course. I just don't really know when. I don't want to make it a huge fuss like last time at the party. Maybe we should just get together with a couple of friends somewhere?" He suggested. Dan agreed with him by nodding and both Dil and Tabitha told them that that was a good idea, but attention soon shifted back to the new animal in the house.

"I'm going to call him Tiny and I'm going to help him get better," Dab proclaimed, proudly, "Then he can go and live back in the forest."

This confident assertion did not help anyone's heart, least of all Phil's. Milk bottles alone certainly weren't going to get _anyone_ out of this.

* * *

It was a surprise, really, when Dan tiredly wandered into the kitchen the next morning and cast his eyes down to the box on the counter and saw that 'Tiny' was still breathing, shakily.

"Hello…" Dan breathed, silently because he was the only one awake, as he looked over the chipmunk. Tiny was wrapped in a flannel cloth to make a little bed, and a bottle cap of milk sat right in front of him beside a couple of broken-up walnuts that had been there all through the night since Dab put them there yesterday.

Dan honestly hadn't expected the chipmunk to survive the night. A little bit of hope started to appear – as tiny as Tiny himself – that maybe the kid was right and everything might be OK. But then as Dan watched the animal more and observed the unstable breathing the hope started to subside.

He looked over his shoulder to the sofa where he could only just see a blanket rising and falling with his friend's breaths. Everything was very bizarrely peaceful. Flicking on the tea machine and hoping not to wake Tiny (which of course he did), Dan set about making the morning brew. Every morning they had tea.

Dan cracked his knuckles and quietly padded over to the sofa in his grey woollen socks to sit down on the rug whilst the tea boiled. He looked up, fixed Phil's fringe, heard the sounds of the Howlters waking up, said 'good morning' to his best friend and stood up to fetch the tea.

He had a feeling, for whatever reason, that today was going to be a long day.


	70. Sunshiny

Dab seemed pretty proud of himself for keeping Tiny alive throughout the night. To him, this was a sign that maybe his new pet was getting better. Every few minutes he'd look in on his chipmunk and talk to it in a very soft, gentle voice, assuring it that everything would be OK. But Dab's parents and childminders knew better.

Tiny wasn't really living. Existing, maybe, but not living. He was shaking and squeaking occasionally as if calling for help. It was almost as heartbreaking to hear as Dab sounding so convinced that he'd get well.

Phil almost wanted to put the poor animal out of its misery and was contemplating how to do that as he sat on the back of the sofa, staring to the plastic box on the bar. He wouldn't do it – if only for the sake of keeping his and Dab's friendship in tact – but it seemed the most generous thing to do in this circumstance. Tiny certainly seemed to have a bit more than a broken leg. Common colds could kill hamsters, Phil knew, and could probably just as well kill a chipmunk if that was what Tiny had.

Dan took a sip of tea and joined his friend on the sofa.

"He won't last long, you know," he said, calmly and quietly.

Phil turned to him,

"Don't sound so happy about it," he replied, blankly, "I'd rather get it over with. The poor thing's been suffering all through the night."

Dan's eyes widened at what his friend was expressing, and he let a bit of tea from his mouth dribble back into the mug.

"You're not- you're not thinking of _killing it,_ are you?" He hissed, wiping his mouth with his knitted jumper sleeve.

Phil shrugged,

"Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind."  
"This isn't like you… besides, even if we were to put it out of its misery, we don't have a gun to shoot it with."

"We have knives."  
Dan shook his head,

"No," he decided, very strictly, trying to get the gruesome image out of his head, "You couldn't do it anyway. You're too much of a kind soul for murder, even if it is out of mercy."

Phil had to agree. He admitted that even if he did get around to it, he'd end up just lying on the lawn outside and crying. He could hear Tiny's weak squeak from the Tupperware enclosure and knew it couldn't be long now anyway.

 _Why did the kid have to go and do something like this?_

"He has to learn about death sometime," Dan attempted to console him, although it wasn't the best thing to say, "…Even if it has to be the hard way."

And in the end, there was nothing they could do.

Dab came into the room then to check up on Tiny. He didn't appear to have noted anything wrong, but of course he wouldn't.

"Hello, Tiny! Are you feeling any better?" He asked, peering into his box. The chipmunk clearly wasn't feeling any better, but the kid didn't recognise that cold, harsh fact.

 _"Do you want me to talk to him?"_ Dan whispered to his friend, putting a hand on his back, but Phil only shook his head.

" _After the fact,"_ he replied. Maybe that would be best, or maybe he was just putting it off. Whatever the case, he didn't want to put up with tears or a tantrum right now.

Dan finished his tea and slid off the sofa to his feet.

"What's up?" He asked Dab as he walked past to the sink, ruffling his hair as he did.

"Why is he squeaking, Dan?" Dab asked, looking a bit concerned for once.

Dan didn't quite know how to water down flat-out saying 'he's dying', so thought for a minute, chewing his lip.

"Because he's not very well," he said at long last, stating the absolutely obvious.

"Do you think he's cold?"

"I don't know."  
He cast a look to Phil, searching for some help, but none came.

"There's not much we can really… do…" Lester put in, eventually, "We'll just see how he turns out. Time will tell."

And time _did_ tell, like it always did.

It was around noon, on Dab's umpteenth check-up on Tiny, that it finally happened. Phil – who was laid on the sofa at the time – was alerted by a heart-wrenching, high-pitched scream of 'NO!' and it surprised him so much that he dropped his phone on the floor and turned about so sharply that he got a cramp.

Dan, too, was surprised, and wheeled about on the computer chair.

"What?" He yelped, and then the realisation of what had happened set in. He got up off his chair and skulked over to the kitchen to see if his suspicions were correct. They were.

There, lying lifeless as could be in the middle of a grey flannel, was Tiny. Or rather, what _was_ Tiny.

Dab looked distraught, as if this lifeless chipmunk was a beloved pet who he had cared for for years and years, when in fact it was just a dying animal he had found in the park the day before.

"He was getting better!" He sobbed

This was not true. Dan, Phil, Dil and Tabitha all knew that Tiny was not getting better and was instead getting worse, and Dan was not surprised in the slightest at what had happened, but that didn't make him cold-hearted. He knew he ought to express some sympathy, so he put a soft hand on the kid's shoulder in the most comforting manner he could muster.

"Sometimes these things happen," he said, kindly, "It's as Phil said this morning. There's nothing we can do. Baby chipmunks aren't very strong and, well… Tiny was very ill."

"You did your best," Phil added in, sitting up and resting his elbows on the back of the settee. He was glad that it had happened relatively soon; he wouldn't have wanted an innocent animal to suffer through something it didn't have to.

"You gave him a good last two days," Dan assured Dab.

The comforting words didn't do much to help the unhappiness, however, and the kid was still grief-stricken. It was starting to tug at his childminders' heartstrings, too (Dil and Tabitha were both at work, but if they had been at home, they would have probably felt the same as them).

Phil thought for a while as he watched Dab and Dan talk for a bit, even though the conversation wasn't very interesting and was practically just the grieving child lamenting over his loss. He swallowed once, picked up his phone from the floor, put it on the table, got to his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets.

Dab looked up to him, sadly, tears running down his round, pink cheeks still.

"If you like," Phil started, kindly, "We can bury him in the garden."

And they did.

* * *

"I can't stop him! He's too strong!" Dab cried, trying to wriggle free of the tight grip around him, but all in vain. He looked around for his lanky, black-haired guardian with a pleading look on his face as if begging for some help, but Phil was nowhere to be seen.

Dab struggled a bit more, though it didn't get him anywhere, and raised the origami sword he wielded. The blade was folded up printer paper in a knife-like shape, only with the very end snipped off so that he couldn't impale himself in the eyes. The handle was bright red and sturdy and Dab's grip on it didn't bend it at all.

"We have to slay the monster!" He declared, flourishing it in the air in a very dramatic action.

The huge, strong arms around him only tightened and spun him around in a circle, so he gave the loudest whistle he could (which wasn't very loud).

"Faithful pterosaur; where are you?" he called, trying to look about whilst being swirled around at an alarming velocity. He was eventually lifted high up into the air and felt a warm face press into his shoulder. He heard a muffled 'rar-rar-rar' sort of sound and wriggled even more.

That was when Phil finally appeared, skidding to his knees onto the floorboards.

"Hop on, brave knight," he declared in a distinctively _non-_ pterosaur-like voice.

Dab brandished his origami sword and as his feet touched the ground again, he swiped it across one of the arms wrapped about him. He was released as he heard an exclamation of 'raAORR' in the most dragon-y voice he had ever heard.

Dab clambered onto his 'pterosaur' and cast one last look at the 'monster' in its soft grey jumper and cosy tracksuit-bottoms. Didn't look much like a monster, but man he had a grip.

"And we're off!" Phil declared, springing to his feet with uncharacteristic energy and making sure the kid wouldn't fall from his back as he dashed to the open back door.

"He's gaining on us!" Dab exclaimed, staring behind and seeing Dan skulking about behind them before hurrying out into the garden, "He's right on your tail!"

"Ready your sword – we have to stop and fight!" Phil told him, slowing to a halt on the grass and letting the knight get down.

And with one swift fake-stab of the sword, the monster fell to his knees and then laid down on the ground with his hands on his heart and a 'blegh'.

"High five!" Dab cheered, reaching up to give Phil a high five, which worked about as well as a new year's diet, and sitting down on the lawn in exhaustion.

Dan sat up and shook his head to get the hair out of his eyes,

"It seems the Non-specific Creature From an Unknown Darkness has been slain again," he sighed, and heard Phil's strange, wheezy laugh from beside him.

Dab had been pretty sad after his chipmunk-saving quest hadn't really worked out, but his childminders' plan to cheer him up had been more of a success. Who knew that a little bit of paper and imagination could keep someone entertained for so long; and not just Dab, either. This was what everyone had been missing, Dan supposed, and he wished that he had put forward the idea sooner, before the 'incident' happened. But no matter. They were all well now.

Dan stared up to the white, fluffy clouds in the perfectly blue sky and wondered what had been going on at home, and pictured himself and his friend being back in control, looking down into this world like sentinels. Loving sentinels.

They'd do a better job up there than they were doing down here, but there was something down here like a magnet that was holding them down still, preventing them from going home. Dan had thought that it was on-going issues that hadn't quite been resolved yet – and it had seemed like Phil had agreed with him – but now he realised that there was more to this universe than fixing old mistakes.

The only things holding them back were things like _this._


	71. Tango

A lot happened in a couple of days after that.

For one, getting along with Erica seemed to be going well; she came around for tea for a while and nothing went terribly wrong, so that was a success in itself. Aside from that, everybody spent a lot of time together on walks and suchlike – where once they ran into Summer Holiday – as well as connecting more at home with 'quality time' or something cheesy-sounding like that. The Creators spent a good chunk of their spare time with Dab when he wasn't at Evan's for the day, taking the responsibility off the Howlter parents' hands for a while, and it went a surprisingly great amount better than prior times.

Wrapping up was a good term for it.

Friendships were fixed, things had been investigated, trips had been made to new places and, most of all, everything was as it should be: perfect as every other perfect thing in this game.

London was calling and there was stuff to do back home – videos to make, friends to visit, marshmallows to eat – but at this current moment in time, Dan had other things on his mind besides heading back to the 'real' world.

There was one thing he'd promised himself that he'd do before they left; and that was swing.

It was midnight and he was currently scrolling though his phone, trying to find a very specific song whilst his friend neared the final chapter of a book he had been reading for a few days. Dan cast a glace to him and set his phone down on the table, staring to his friend until a familiar tune started up and Phil's eyes flicked up in surprise to meet his gaze.

"Is that-?" he started, as he began to recognise the beat.

Dan nodded.

"I was going to change it up a little, but I put this on instead," he said, standing up, "Because after all, it doesn't mean a thing…"

"If it ain't got that swing? Thanks, Dan; that wasn't very subtle," Phil replied, and though his tone was satirical, he still smiled.

"Shall we?" Dan offered, holding out a hand.

" _Fine,"_ Phil agreed, faking a look of reluctance and getting to his feet for the first time in a few hours. He had restrained himself from saying 'let's swing it' because that would have been very slightly weird.

The good thing about dancing to swing was that swing didn't really have a specific type of dance that went with it. You could do anything from foxtrot and ballroom to tap-dance and jive. What Dan went for – seeing as he was the lead today – was an unorganised hybrid of tango and Charleston. Unorganised because there wasn't really a plan and neither Dan nor Phil really knew any specific moves. Last time had gone well, though, and had been, in parts, impressively _good._

Dan remembered back to February at the house party on one of their last days here. They had crept away to the part of the room where the computer desk was to try and get out of the way and out of sight a bit, but their plan hadn't really worked. In between their jives and waltz-like… things… were TATINOF reminiscent moves (foot taps and little jumps, mostly) that practically everybody left at the party witnessed.

This time wouldn't be as public, at least, though the music wasn't that quiet and nobody in the house was asleep yet, even if they _were_ in bed already. They'd seen it all before.

For two notoriously clumsy and inelegant friends who hardly went outside for fear of embarrassment and tripped over and walked into things frequently, you would have supposed they would be offensively bad dancers. Not so. Surprisingly, probably due to the 'link' or whatever they wouldn't stop joking that they had, nothing was ever broken – whether that be objects or bones – and everything was, as said, surprisingly impressive.

What started off as a touch of joking around at the end of a long 10-or-so days was now something fun and pretty relaxing to do at the end of a very exhausting, and maybe a bit traumatic, almost 3 _weeks._

The moonlight was shimmering in through the large windows and the back door, and the sound of swing drowned out the padding of mismatched and black woollen socks padding on the floorboards. Only Tabitha really heard the footsteps, and she smiled to herself as she sat under her duvet, knowing what was going on as she peacefully read her book.

February had basically repeated itself, sure, but not _all_ of that was a bad thing.

A chilly air was rolling through the house and the only sounds about were footsteps and swing gradually speeding up in the background, the familiar beat matching the noise of the steps.

With his eyes drawn downwards to his and his friend's feet, Dan gave a weak smile and let his thoughts drift back to the February dance as they spun about once in time to the tune.

As the music reached a climax and eventually dropped to a calmer piano solo, Dan found himself holding his friend in a drop, which he hadn't even thought about doing, but apparently he had done. Sharing a snigger, he lifted him back up and slipped back into a ballroom pose.

His chin over his friend's shoulder, Phil lifted his line of sight to look out of the window beside the TV, and saw the familiar face of Eliza Pancakes walking past on the road outside. _Why was she out and about so late?_ Never mind. It was Eliza: she did weird stuff all the time. Phil waved to her anyway as her eyes met his and she gingerly waved back, grinning smugly at what she saw.

The day after tomorrow, Phil and Dan had decided between themselves earlier. It seemed about time. They'd tell the Howlters tomorrow and then they could have a fine, full day together. After all, this would be their last visit. For good.

 _"Keep going!"_ Dan pushed, noting that he'd slowed down – probably getting tired already – though he soon sped up again as the pace picked up.

He needed to stop letting his thoughts run away with him. That's what he'd been doing all this journey, hadn't he? Worrying unnecessarily and thinking about things rather than focusing on what he was supposed to be doing at that moment instead. It was time to stop, and he did.

"Looking forward to going home?" Dan asked, deciding to make some hushed conversation in the short time they had where the music was calm, box-stepping away. It was a question with a very obvious answer.

"Absolutely," Phil nodded. This wasn't like last time, where something felt as if it wasn't quite right and that they had to come back again, and that they didn't want to leave: this time everything was in its place and right again. It was time to stop, and they would.

"You know, I really think…" Phil swallowed, starting a sentence but then cutting himself short before he finished.

"What?" Dan asked, curiously, in that soft voice he always used.

"…That I owe you lot for sticking with me all through these tight spots. I've been a mess these couple of weeks, and you've stuck with me – and the Howlters, too – all the way through it, no matter what. It's a contrast, really, to last time, but we don't talk about that."

"That's alright. Least I could do. You don't have to thank me."

"I do. Things come and go, I suppose, and they've done a lot of that recently. What I'm trying to put forward, in short, is… well… _ta_."

Dan gave a short, sharp laugh and they stepped back into a halt, letting go. The song carried on without them.

"Been an adventure, hasn't it?" he sighed with a nostalgic but somewhat euphoric air.

"You can say that again. A pretty wild ride from start to finish, I'd say. First meeting Erica in Chez Llama… then the masquerade; remember that?"

"How could I forget?"

Phil laughed,

"It was fun," he insisted. It had probably been more fun for him than for anybody else, like an undercover operation. How he managed to keep a straight face throughout it all was a complete mystery.

Dan looked, fondly, down at him. 'A wild ride' was just about right.

"Remember Granite Falls? The whole drama with Summer? The crash?"

"Of course," Phil affirmed, "I don't think I've ever had such an eventful few weeks."

"You _have_ been a mess," Dan agreed.

 _"Shut up…"_

And he was pulled into a warm hug.

Home time. Definitely. This was enough now; they'd had enough. London was calling. Back to a cosy apartment and warm beds, their own company and their own TV. It was time to go.


	72. Let's Go

No matter how nice things seemed at the end of their journey, Phil and Dan couldn't stay here forever.

It was Wednesday evening in Potter's Splay and an emotional goodbye was being had between the creators and their creations. It had been a difficult time but they had scraped through it, and it had had its highs and lows.

It was best not to focus on the low points (the awkwardness surrounding Summer, the tension of figuring out what Erica had an issue with them for, Granite Falls, the fever, the 'thing' with Dab, and others amongst them), so they didn't. High points included the quality time that Dab had spent with his childminders, the trip to Chez Llama only a few days ago, the masquerade and perhaps even the late nights of conversation between the two creators, shrouded in darkness and silence to be left to reminisce about the little things they'd learned to appreciate whilst being here.

Perhaps it was all a lesson, really, about appreciating what you have in your own life and not trying to swap it for somebody else's. Or maybe that's searching too deep.

In any case, Dan, Phil and the Howlters were all gathered near the back door, still in the warmth of the quirky little house that everybody had come to call a home, whilst the sun set outside.

Phil knelt on the hardwood floor whilst Dab gave him one of the most wholehearted hugs he'd ever had. Dan was stood beside him, having said goodbye to Dab already, and was having a final conversation to Dil and Tabitha about how nice it had been to see them.

They'd all go outside in a minute and wave goodbye one final time, so they were dragging out the very short time they had before then.

 _"Sorry about what happened, again,"_ Phil whispered to the kid when he let go, with a nervy smile cracked across his pale face, " _Don't remember me for that, OK?"_

Dab shook his head, confidently. He had better things to remember his babysitters for. He started to step back but was interrupted by a cough from Phil, who raised his eyebrows,

"Excuse me? What do I get?" he hummed, clearly expecting something.

Dab gave him one last brief hug and kissed his cheek. Both Phil and Dan got these on the daily.

Phil gave a laugh,

"Alright, kid," he said, standing up, "I'll miss you."

He stood up in time to hear Dan apologising to the Howlters for whatever trouble they might have been.

"It's me who should be apologising!… really…" Phil started, abruptly. It must have been a strange movement: suddenly springing up from the floor like a startled cat and blurting that out. The Howlter parents looked at him in an odd manner and he hurried to compose himself,

"What I mean is… I'm sorry for what happened here, for what happened in February, and that I haven't really been myself and that you never really got to see the side of me that wasn't a mess. I know you forgive me for that because you guys are all great, but I just wanted to let you know that before Dan and I left. That as well as how thankful I am that you've understood so much about us both," he explained, modestly, and watched the expressions of Tabitha and Dil's faces change from surprise to fondness. They told him there was nothing to worry about (Tabitha specifically told him he was 'a real sweetheart') and both gave him and Dan two final hugs.

It shouldn't have been this emotional, in theory. They weren't real; they were simulations, hence the name 'Sims', but once you get attached to anyone, whether they be 'real' or not, it's hard to let go. It's hard to let go of anything. And the Howlters had been so accommodating; it was impossible not to love them.

"You think everything will be normal from now on, then? Here, I mean," Tabitha asked. This was a good question.

"I don't know," Dan replied, "And if Phil says he does, he doesn't."

"Do you really want it to be normal?" Phil put in, putting his hands behind his back, "I always say, 'normalness leads to sadness'."

"Hmm. Well, you're not _wrong_ ," Dan admitted as he cast a glance out of the glass in the door but saw only darkness and a slight glow of the pool lights. He'd miss this place, sure, but there's a place for everything and everyone and he had his place. He took in the momentum conserver one last time, the bunny guitar, Susan 2's fish tank, and Jonathan the Minnow's, too. The porcelain pig, the rooster beside it, the drinks bar, the tea machine and Dab's drawings scattered about the walls. Endearing. But he knew he had even more sentimental things at home. Not least his bed and his laptop.

He put his right arm around his best friend who was always by his side and always would be even back home – of course – and pulled him a good bit closer. He thanked the Howlters one last time for a their hospitality and their friendship, and Phil agreed and Dil and Tabitha said something along the lines of 'we should be thanking you for the experience' but everybody had heard it all before. They were just dragging it out now. No point in staying any longer.

"We should go," Phil swallowed with a tired smile. He was just about ready to crawl into bed with a warm drink and think about his and Dan's journey.

"We should," Dan agreed with him.

Everything past that seemed to go in a blur. They said their very, very last goodbyes, stopped the tears from falling, pushed open the back door, stepped out onto the porch and turned about to see the house for the very final time. Then they waved to their caring 'family' as they closed the door.

Then the creators were left in silence, surrounded by the chill of dusk. A wave of cool air rolled past and they shivered. Leaving felt weird. Staying felt weirder. Arriving had felt weirdest. Going was the most sensible option here, so they went. They wandered to the path in silence, stepped onto it and carried on until they got to the street corner where they could look down Courtyard Lane and see the Pancake residence there as well. Evan would probably be asleep by now, Eliza and Bob maybe watching TV. Funny how even video game simulations went about their lives merrily enough without having to know about what was going on around them.

Phil and Dan supposed the Pancakes, Summer Holiday, Erica Pendleton and anyone else they had met would probably forget about them sooner or later anyway.

Funny.

" _Dan,"_ Phil whispered, even though he didn't have to because he was out of earshot, tugging at Dan's sleeve.

"Hmm?" Dan 'answered', looking downwards slightly to him. He figured out what his friend wanted quickly enough, "Alright, c'mere, then," he sighed, but honestly he didn't mind at all as he wrapped his arms around him.

The coolness around them swiftly dissipated with the warmth that they found themselves enveloped in. It needn't be emotional –they were still there, after all; they weren't saying goodbye; they _lived_ with each other – but somehow it was. Dan knew it was because he felt wobbling on his shoulder; the wobbling of someone who didn't know precisely how they were feeling and couldn't explain it if given 5 hours.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil breathed, his voice shaking slightly but still sure of himself with a measure of steadiness that was hard to describe.

"Hmm?"

"Let's not come back."

The Very End.

* * *

 **A/N 1:**

 **"petrichor**

 **ˈpɛtrʌɪkɔː/**

 ** _noun_**

 **a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather." -from Oxford Dictionaries.**

 **A quote from a song by Tall Ships:** **"And in this ongoing war**  
 **My favourite smell is petrichor**  
 **The scent straight after rain**  
 **An illusion of beginning again"**

* * *

 **A/N 2:**

 **Thanks for sticking with me. I owe you one.**  
 **Sincerely,**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

 **A/N 3:**

 **I've moved to Archive Of Our Own.**  
 **I may occasionally still post the odd little thing here if I come up with anything, but any proper stories will be there if you're still interested.**  
 **Ta.**

 **LINKS:**

 **AO3: A_Plastic_Snail**  
 **Twitter: i_whisker (TwentyOneCatWhiskers)**  
 **Phanart Instagram: twentyonecatwhiskerz (Foivi)**


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